


my sword, your word

by neenswrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, General!Kuroo, Long glances, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Oblivious Kuroo Tetsurou, Only in Chapter Three Though, Pining, Rivals to Lovers, Strategist!Kenma, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, lingering touches, the works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27980265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neenswrites/pseuds/neenswrites
Summary: Kenma took a small step towards him, and Kuroo resisted the instinct to place his hand on his knife. He wouldn't let Kenma get to him.“Friends, you called them.” Kenma tilted his chin up and leveled Kuroo with an unimpressed gaze. “Trying to keep friends in the world we live in is a thing of fools.”Kenma passed by him then, leaving Kuroo seething and his blood boiling.-WIth a violent King who's quick to execute anyone he views as no longer useful, a war with either the kingdom of Seijoh or Nohebi on the horizon, a conspiracy brewing behind closed doors, and rumors spreading like wildfire, Kuroo Tetsurou finds himself in a tentative alliance with Kozume Kenma, the kingdom's chief strategist who's trying to rise to the exact same position Kuroo wants.He's also just one of the worst people Kuroo has ever met in his life.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 30
Kudos: 246
Collections: Recommended KuroKen Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Danmujiji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danmujiji/gifts).



> WOW CRAZY HOW THIS IS MONTHS LATE AHAHA
> 
> anyway this is for danmu!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you like your fic even tho u torment me all the time :)
> 
> THANK U TO [CHRISTY](https://twitter.com/kodzukuro) WHO I OWE MY LIFE TO SEVERAL TIMES OVER AT THIS POINT FOR BETA READING THIS FIC BC IT IS A BEHEMOTH OF A FIC LET ME TELL YOU
> 
> i love royalty aus,,,,,,,just,,,,,,so much,,,,,,,,so i hope you all like this too!!!!!!

_30 Days_

“Then neither of you have wavered in your opinion for which kingdom should be invaded first.”

Kuroo tried his best not to flinch. If the statement itself wasn’t enough to shame him, then the tone of King Nakashima’s voice made him want to bow his head in disgrace. He knew this discussion had been going for far longer than any of them had wanted, and that the King had never been known for his patience.

That didn’t mean that he was going to back down. 

“Marching on Nohebi makes the most sense.” Kuroo stepped up as he spoke, careful to keep his eyes gracefully lowered. “They’ve gone unchecked for far too long, and if no one reigns them in, they’ll only become a greater problem for everyone.”

“Conquering Nohebi does nothing for us.”

Kuroo tensed. Just the sound of Kozume Kenma’s voice was enough for irritation to course through his veins. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the other man stepped up beside him. He looked as apathetic as usual, his simple clothes no less fine than the military garb Kuroo wore.

Kenma looked every part the Chief War Strategist he was. If only he had the personality to match.

“Nohebi’s land yields the same crops as ours, and they have no advantage in location,” Kenma continued in that bored tone Kuroo detested. “Conquering Aoba Johsai, however, would send a message throughout the realm of the power of Nekoma, and would grant us access to their mountain ranges.”

“Aoba Johsai is a long-standing empire - it would take us ages to win a war against them,” Kuroo said quickly. Nothing Kenma said was false, but Aoba Johsai had never done anything to earn an attack from Nekoma. It seemed cruel to launch a war for no reason. “Furthermore, if we go against them, all other kingdoms will immediately be on guard with us.”

“Let them be on guard.” Kenma shrugged, and Kuroo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. For all the skill Kenma had in strategy, he lacked it twice fold when it came to diplomacy. “We’ve barely got the trust of any other nations as it stands.” 

Kuroo clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Which is why we shouldn’t do anything to further worsen that. Attacking Nohebi will gain us no ill-will from other kingdoms, and may in fact gain us some allies.”

“Do you expect us to conquer the realm through the merit of friendship?” Kenma raised a single unimpressed eyebrow. Kuroo’s eye twitched. “The goals of Nekoma go past this first battle.”

“I understand that, but it is _still_ the first battle,” Kuroo stressed, turning to look at Kenma. “What sense does it make to go after a power like Aoba Johsai?”

“Do you doubt the abilities of your men, Captain?” Kenma’s eyes gleamed, and Kuroo clenched his jaw as he realized he’d walked straight into Kenma’s trap. “Or do you simply doubt your own training of them?”

“Don’t question the strength of a force you could never hope to be a part of.”

“Be a part of, no.” Kenma stopped speaking there, but they both heard the unspoken words that hung heavy between them.

_Be in charge of, however…_

Because wasn’t that why they were both there. As captain of the guard and chief military strategist respectively, he and Kenma should be working together. Not only would that create a more cohesive front for Nekoma, but it would make it easier to advise the emperor in his goals for expanding their kingdom.

However, they were both after the same thing - the position of King’s Hand. Not only would that give them full control of the nation’s resources and military, but it would virtually guarantee them their lives.

With a king such as theirs, a guarantee like that was the most precious thing in the land.

“If you’re done bickering like children.” 

Kuroo tensed and immediately turned to face the King again. From his peripherals he could see Kenma shifting in place just so, the only indication of his nerves. At least they had a fear of King Nakashima’s anger in common.

But anyone who saw the King and knew what he was capable of would fear him too. 

“Raise your gazes, both of you.” Kuroo lifted his chin at the command, and was met with the sight of the King’s sneering face. “I didn’t call you into my office so you could quarrel unbecomingly at my feet. You are meant to advise. As of yet, neither one of you have convinced me of anything at all.”

King Nakashima paused then, letting his gaze go from Kuroo to Kenma, before settling back on Kuroo. His eyes narrowed before he continued lowly. “But know that I will march regardless. My reign will not be limited to the lands of Nekoma as is, and if I have to kill you both and find new men to guide me, then so be it.”

Kuroo swallowed, but he also recognized the King’s bluff. Kuroo wasn’t one for boasting but there was no guard or knight who could stand toe to toe with him. Any other person assigned to captain of the guard would simply be challenged and killed by another jealous member of the military. Kuroo was the only one who could keep his men in check.

And loathe was he to admit it, Kenma’s life was likely secure as well. He’d proven time and time again his skill in military strategy. It was the King’s policy that any military advisor who led him to a lost battle would be beheaded.

Kenma was the longest lasting military advisor in years. 

But that didn’t mean the King needed both of them. Both their successors' staccatoed deaths proved as much. 

“You’re now dismissed.” King Nakashima said with a wave to his hand. “I don’t care if you agree with each other or not - one of you needs to prove to me where we’ll be sending out troops.”

Kuroo bowed low, but before he could rise, the King spoke again. “You have one month. I will not entertain your squabbling for a day past that.”

Kuroo exhaled shakily, but was sure to compose himself before the King could see his moment of weakness. There was no room for that here. 

It was only once he was out of the king’s office, the door closing surely behind him, that Kuroo could once again breathe easily. He’d manage to survive to another day. 

Though if he and Kenma didn’t get their act together soon, who knew how long that would stay true. 

He turned to Kenma, who looked as if he was about to turn the opposite direction of Kuroo. He wouldn’t let him get away so easily.

“You know,” Kuroo drawled, relishing in the way Kenma’s shoulder rose to his ears. “If you would simply agree that conquering Nohebi is a quick enough fix to abide the King, we wouldn’t have to worry about this anymore.” 

Kenma turned his body to face Kuroo, but his eyes were trained over Kuroo’s shoulder. “Oh, are we still pretending that you want to invade Nohebi for any other reason than to protect Fukurodani?”

Kuroo froze.

“After all, Fukurodani isn’t faring too well in their battles on the border with Nohebi,” Kenma continued, sounding so disinterested in the fact that there were lives being lost as they spoke. “If we were to march on Nohebi, they would likely retreat from Fukurodani to focus all their efforts on us.” 

Kuroo swallowed minutely. “That’s all speculation.” He made sure to pick his words carefully. He had no idea how long Kenma had this figured out for, but he was not going to make matters worse by lashing out. “You have no way to prove that.”

Kenma looked impatiently down the hall. “You’re predictable.”

Kuroo felt anger and embarrassment flood him, and clenched his fist in an effort to cool his temper. He refused to let Kenma gain the upper hand; refused to let him get under his skin.

“Even if what you said was true, it doesn’t make anything else I’ve said wrong,” Kuroo snapped. “So long as we're able to advance, it wouldn't matter if it also protected our friends.”

Kuroo knew he was right. No matter what ulterior motive he may have, he’d been able to convince the emperor to listen to him thus far through reason and logic. Marching on Nohebi was a good idea regardless of what other nations it would protect. It was just a small benefit that it was in the interest of Fukurodani as well.

Kenma finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that day, and Kuroo gritted his teeth at the shiver that ran down his spine. Kenma rarely ever looked at anyone directly, thinking too highly of himself to even spare a glance when someone was talking to him. So the few times Kenma did cast his large, golden eyes Kuroo’s way, he was always taken off guard.

Kuroo loathed it.

Kenma took a small step towards him, and Kuroo resisted the instinct to place his hand on his knife. He wouldn't let Kenma get to him. 

“Friends, you called them.” Kenma tilted his chin up and leveled Kuroo with an unimpressed gaze. “Trying to keep friends in the world we live in is a thing of fools.”

Kenma passed by him then, leaving Kuroo seething and his blood boiling.

_29 Days_

“And then he simply walked away from me,” Kuroo exclaimed as he gestured into the air. The library was empty save for him, Kai, and Yaku, so he was free to complain as wantonly as he wanted. “He didn’t even spare me a second glance.”

Yaku and Kai both nodded in response, but neither one looked up from the records they were going over. Kuroo narrowed his eyes.

“Did either of you hear what I just said?”

Yaku looked up then, and fixed Kuroo with an annoyed gaze. “You had a meeting with King Nakashima and Kozume, Kozume insulted you in some way, left before you had a chance to reply, and now you're recounting your woes to us.”

Kuroo’s jaw dropped in offense, but Kai spoke up before he could say anything. “It is a shame that Kenma remains unmoved in his stance to march on Seijoh.”

Glancing between them both quickly, Kuroo pursed his lips before nodding sharply. “His plans for Aoba Johsai would take too long. The King would get restless during that time, and who knows what would happen then.”

“He’s not wrong about Nohebi not being enough for the goals of the king,” Yaku added. Kuroo’s head snapped to him in shock and he gave an unapologetic shrug in response. “It’s true. Logical or not, the King wants more power, and we all know he won’t be content with a small kingdom such as Nohebi.”

Kuroo tried not to let his mind linger on this fact. As his right hands, Kai and Yaku were meant to help point him in the right direction when he went to speak to the King. And while Yaku wasn’t incorrect in saying King Nakashima would never be content with just the kingdom of Nohebi, it was enough to at least appease him for some time. 

It had to be enough.

“There aren’t any other viable options.” Kai sighed as he pulled the map laid at the center of the table closer to them all. It was of their realm, and the many different kingdoms that resided within it. Kai placed his finger on Nekoma’s landlocked position before dragging it down. “We’ve gone over this countless times. We can’t attack Itichiyama in the South as we are now, we’d never stand a chance against their military. Inarizaki is well protected by their intricate forest system, and we’d need time to send spies in and scout before we could even come out with a strategy.”

“That leaves Aoba Johsai and Nohebi.” Yaku scowled as he looked at both kingdoms, Nohebi to the north, and Aoba Johsai to the East. “Technically, it’s possible to win against both of them, but we’d have a much less casualties with Nohebi.”

“But Aoba Johsai is more beneficial overall,” Kai finished solemnly. They all remained silent as they stared at the map before them, the conversation they’d shared one they’d had countless times before. 

“While I still stand firm that we should march on Nohebi, I don’t think you should be so quick to dismiss Kozume.” Kai spoke slowly, and Kuroo tried not to let his annoyance show on his face. He wasn’t a child, he could bear the brunt of his criticism. “There is logic to his choice, and if there’s logic, he can be reasoned with.”

“Okay, but logic isn’t the means through which Kozume is making his decisions,” Kuroo said darkly as he trained his eyes on Aoba Johsai on the map. They were nestled cozily between the eastern mountain range - and were the only way anyone could get to the eastern side of the realm where the kingdoms of Karasuno, Dateko, and Johenzi reigned. Nekoma was allowed a few trips a year due to a tentative trade agreement, but that would be immediately annulled if they declared war against them.

Which is exactly what Kenma would have them do.

“He isn’t guided by reason,” Kuroo repeated, looking away from the map. “He’s a sadist who enjoys toying with the emotions of our enemies.” 

Kuroo grimaced as he remembered one of his first interactions with Kenma. 

A few years back, Nekoma had fought a series of border battles with the Kingdom of Itachiyama. Kuroo hadn’t been made Captain of the Guard quite yet, but he’d been a high enough rank that he’d been granted access to the King's tent. 

It had been his first time sitting in during a war meeting. It had also been Kenma’s first meeting as Chief Military Strategist.

The only reason Kuroo had known this was because Kenma’s predecessor had been brutally killed the night prior to the meeting in front of the whole camp. 

Kuroo remembered seeing Kenma from just behind the King as the execution occurred. He remembered thinking him brave for not even flinching when the King announced him as the new Chief Military Strategist. Then he’d seen him in action.

“We should attack in three days' time.” Kenma had been quieter back then than he was now, but sounded no less bored with everything. His eyes remained trained on the ground as he spoke, but every eye in the room had turned to look at him.

“Three days is too soon - our soldiers can’t endure another loss after the beating we took yesterday,” the then Captain of the Guard argued. Kuroo had silently agreed. They had suffered a major loss the day before, and if they attacked too soon, Nekoma would be unlikely to recover.

“We won’t lose,” Kenma said firmly. Kuroo blinked in surprise. “Itachiyama superstitions are rooted in the stars - half of their prophecies are concerned with comets and the works. One of our own astronomers has confirmed that in three days time, there will be a meteor shower. If we attack at night, at the same time, Itachiayama’s soldiers will hesitate with every other move.” Kenma looked up then, but not at Kuroo, or the Captain, or any of the other soldiers. He only looked to the King. “If we march in three days’ time, we win.”

“Our astronomers are shoddy at best.” The Captain turned to look at the King then. “Give us a week to recover. If we listen to the advice of a child barely suited for his position, then we’ll lose too many men to count.”

“Let’s make a wager then.” Kenma had stepped up then, came just a meter away from the Captain, but his eyes still remained locked on the King. “If I’m wrong, I’ll step down from this position by any means the King sees fit.”

Kenma hadn’t been wrong. When Nekoma attacked three days later, Itachiyama had been so caught up with the meteor shower overhead they’d barely been able to respond. Kuroo remembered seeing King Sakusa on his horse above them all, staring at the sky in a quiet daze before calling for a retreat. 

Kenma had lived to see another day. The Captain had been beheaded the moment they made it back to the castle. 

Kuroo bore no ill will towards Kenma for the death of his Captain. He’d never been fond of the man, and he knew the King had a preference for death as punishment. 

However, Kuroo could not forgive Kenma for the wager itself. While he had never explicitly stated terms for what would happen if he won, it was understood by all. At the end of the battle, the kingdom would either be down a captain or a strategist.

And as acting Captain now, Kuroo couldn’t allow himself to ever trust Kenma. Whether he’d been protecting himself or not, Kenma made it so that he would live at the cost of another life. Kuroo could never gamble faith on someone like that. 

“Kozume isn’t guided by reason.” Kuroo repeated again. “He’s calculated, and ruthless, and a sadistic little fuck who turns his enemies fears against themselves.”

Kai and Yaku shared a look and Kuroo tried not to let that trouble him. He’d perhaps been a bit more critical of Kenma than usual, but it was true. Just like how he turned Ithachiyama’s superstitions against them, like how he would turn Aoba Johsai’s weakness against them.

How he turned Kuroo’s loyalty to Fukurodani against him.

Not that he could tell Yaku or Kai about that. Neither of them knew of his ulterior motives - though he wouldn’t be surprised if they had their suspicions - and he would do what he could to keep it that way. Should he be found out, he’d be sure he was the only one punished. 

Yaku turned his gaze from Kai’s to study Kuroo, and Kuroo did not like the concern he could see painted clearly there. He opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden noise from the shelves beside them immediately caught their attention.

“Yaku, there you are!”

Kuroo felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Lev’s voice. Lev was harmless.

“I wanted to know if you could practice shielding with me - Captain Kuroo said I couldn’t learn more sword fighting until I got better with my shield!”

Mostly harmless. Lev was _mostly_ harmless. 

“He isn’t incorrect.” Kuroo said quickly, Yaku already turning to him with a fierce glare. “How can I teach the boy to parry when he can barely defend himself.”

“‘Boy’.” Yaku snorted as he rolled his eyes. “He’s barely any younger than you, you old man.”

“Lev, why were you behind the bookshelf if you were looking for Yaku?” Kai asked, quickly cutting into the budding argument. As the question registered, Kuroo’s eyes narrowed. 

“Oh, I was looking for Yaku hours ago - until I ran into Kenma!” Kuroo’s blood went cold. “It’s funny, he’s just on the other side of the library. I was trying to keep his attention, but he refused to say a word to me! Then he told me to find this book,” Lev waved the thick tome in the air, “Which took forever, until I found it just by your table!”

If this was anyone else, Kuroo would just mark this as coincidence. Lev was persistent enough that most anyone would send him on a wild goose chase to get him off their back. It could’ve just been chance.

But it was Kenma. Nothing was ever by chance when it came to him.

“I’m going to go give it to him, and then Yaku and I can practice on the training grounds!” Lev left before any of them could get a word in edgewise. He bounded off towards the East Wing of the library, and Kuroo’s eyes narrowed further. Kenma wasn’t far at all. 

Kuroo was already standing to follow him before Kai and Yaku cut him off with a quick, “Kuroo!”

He turned to face them, ready to demand what was so important, but instead flinched at the glares on both their faces.

“You need to keep your head,” Yaku hissed at him. Kuroo bit his tongue to keep from pointing out just how poor a job Yaku was doing at just that. “If you storm over there and create a scene, who knows what the repercussions will be.”

“Especially when you’ve already said that King’s patience is thin with you both,” Kai added. Kuroo exhaled, sobered by the reminder. Kai smiled gratefully. “Don’t give King Nakashima the excuse he’s looking for to get rid of either of you.”

Kuroo nodded as he sighed shakily. “You’re both right. I still need to go over there though.” At both their exasperated looks, he raised his hands placatingly. “I won’t instigate anything. But if Lev overheard anything we were talking about, that stands to pose a threat to us.”

“Very well,” Kai conceded with a sigh. Yaku looked like he still wanted to fight him on it, but he turned back to the map without another word. He gave them both a grateful look, and thanked the Gods that they both trusted him as their captain.

Because Kuroo wasn’t the current captain for nothing. He was captain because he survived this hell of a period they were living in, and he kept those closest alive with him. He didn’t make it to be 25 without learning when to trust, when to provoke, and when to descend. Kenma had spent the past 7 years as chief strategist, all while 3 captains came and passed.

Kuroo refused to be the fourth. 

And he refused to let Kenma’s manipulative ways go unchecked. He cared for no one and tolerated not a single presence around him if he had a say. Kuroo wouldn’t leave his or his friends’ lives to his cold, secluded whims. 

However, given all that, he could admit he was surprised to see Yamamoto and Fukunaga at Kenma’s side. 

It wasn’t like Kenma had never interacted with the two. Fukunaga was the astronomer who’d told Kenma about the meteor shower those years ago, and Yamamoto had been the lower strategist to replace the one before last. The three were often grouped together during meetings or banquets, though Kuroo couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

Just as he couldn’t figure out why they were all together during their free time. 

“Captain Kuroo, good evening,” Fukunaga greeted as Kuroo approached, snapping him from his thoughts. The astronomer looked calm in the presence of Kuroo, while Yamamoto was looking wearily between him and Kenma - who hadn’t even bothered to spare him a glance from the document he was reading. It seemed even Fukunaga and Yamamoto were aware of the tension between him and Kenma.

He wasn’t sure if that was good or not.

“Captain,” Yamamoto said gruffly with his own little bow. Both of them pointedly avoided looking at the one person who had yet to greet him. 

“Good evening - I didn’t expect anyone else to still be up so late.” Kuroo stepped just a bit closer, trying to get a glance at the paper Kenma was writing on. He didn’t see Lev, but the huge book he’d been waving around was on the table by Kenma’s side, so he must’ve been here.

“Well, I do study the stars.” Fukunaga shrugged with a small smile. “Not much I can do to help that.”

“And you, Yamamoto?” Kuroo shifted his body just a touch so he’d be able to see the top of the paper with his peripherals. “What keeps you up so late?”

“I wasn’t aware the library had a closing time,” Yamamoto grumbled. Kuroo laughed unexpectedly. He supposed that was fair.

“Still,” he started, finally able to make out an emblem on the top left corner of the paper - a bird of some kind - before Kenma was rolling the parchment up and snapping his eyes up to Kuroo’s. Kuroo bit his tongue at that all so familiar shiver. 

“Can we help you with anything?” Kenma looked distracted as he asked the question. He stood up before Kuroo could reply, sorting the books in front of him in piles. Fukunaga and Yamamoto looked surprised by his sudden movement, but Kuroo couldn’t help but feel smug.

“Oho,” he drawled as he watched Kenma move quickly, all while keeping his document close to his side. “Is someone scared of letting the Captain see what they're working on?”

Kenma paused then, dragging his gaze from his paper to Kuroo, then to the book Lev had been carrying. Kuroo’s eyes widened.

“It would seem you’re the one who’s scared of me, Captain.” He said the title deliberately, like it was some nickname a child had come up with for themselves instead of a sign of power given to him by the king. “Why, the way Lev would tell it, you find me to be a sadistic little fuck.” Kuroo stiffened. So Lev had been listening. By the sounds of it, he hadn’t heard much, but it had been enough for Kenma to turn this whole situation against him. 

“Lev is one to embellish though,” Kenma continued as he gathered the last of his things. Now both Fukunaga and Yamamoto were looking nervously between the two, but Kuroo couldn’t find it in him to even spare them a glance. “I’m sure you’d never show so much fear to someone who could never even _dream_ of fighting alongside your men.”

Kenma walked past him then, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed, and Kuroo clenched his fist at his sides. Fukunaga and Yamamoto followed after him, each bowing quickly before departing, but Kuroo could care less.

Just once he’d like to have the last word when it came to that brat.

_24 Days_

There were few things Kuroo enjoyed as much as banquets. Royal life was stressful beyond belief, but the opportunity to eat, chat, and dance helped him keep a level head. 

But above all else, his favorite part of all was getting the opportunity to see his friends from across the land. 

“Kuroo!” Bokuto exclaimed as he pushed his way through the crowd. One would expect more grace from the King of Fukurodani, but the owls from the north had never been known for their convention. 

He’d met Bokuto back when he’d still been a teenager and had first joined the royal guard. He’d accompanied an envoy to Fukurodani’s lands, and been scared out of his mind when he realized the person he’d stumbled into when exiting the cart had been the then Crown Prince Bokuto.

However, instead of threatening injury or demanding punishment, Bokuto had laughed and asked how someone so young had managed to secure a spot on the traveling guards. Kuroo had been too tense to say a word.

“Do you speak?” Bokuto had asked, except it lacked all the condescension Kuroo was used to. Bokuto looked genuinely curious, and Kuroo chuckled before he could remember himself.

“I speak plenty when given the opportunity, Your Highness,” he’d responded as respectfully as he could. Bokuto had laughed, and patted Kuroo on the back with so much force he nearly fell forward.

“Well then take the opportunity!” He smiled wide, and pointed behind him with his thumb. “Are you able to use that sword as well, or are you going to keep me guessing about that too?” 

That had been Kuroo’s first encounter with a monarch that wouldn’t ridicule him at the first opportunity. Bokuto had not only become his first friend from outside of Nekoma, but the interaction had encouraged Kuroo to branch out when accompanying other envoys to foreign nations. It was the reason he was able to call knights, lords, princes, and even kings his friends.

He owed much to Bokuto in that sense. Kuroo smiled wide as he approached, and turned to reach out his hand to him. 

“Bo, how are -,” Kuroo was cut off by Bokuto’s crushing hug. He wheezed at the pressure, but then laughed and reciprocated the embrace just as tightly. It had been much too long since he’d seen his friend.

“Careful with the cat, Koutarou.”

All the warmth Kuroo had felt from Bokuto quickly melted away at Akaashi’s cold tone. He pulled back to see the other King of Fukurodani looking up at him with his usual look of disdain.

If the two weren't constantly on the verge of simply murdering each other in their sleep, Kuroo had no doubt Akaashi and Kenma would have much in common. They both managed to look down at Kuroo despite being shorter than him, at least. 

“King Akaashi,” Kuroo said with a small bow. He heard Bokuto snort at his side, and repressed the urge to purse his lips. “How did you find the trip to our kingdom?”

“It’s always so hot here,” Bokuto complained before Akaashi could even open his mouth. Akaashi’s gaze softened as it flicked to his husband, and Kuroo felt his own annoyance ease as well. Regardless of Akaashi’s distrust in him, he was better to Bokuto than Kuroo knew a person could be. He’d put up with the snide remarks so long as Akaashi continued to look as fondly at Bokuto as he did. 

“It’s actually a bit cooler now than it typically is this time of year.” Akaashi commented. Kuroo looked at him in surprise. He was completely right, even if the difference was slight.

That was actually what the banquet was celebrating. Nekoma had a long standing belief that if the summer ended gently, then the Gods had smiled upon their land. Kuroo wasn’t sure if he believed it entirely - not that he would dare speak that out loud - but a less intense summer did mean that some of their more delicate crops were able to be yielded for longer. So either way, a celebration of that was in order. 

He was just surprised Akaashi had noticed. Or, as was more likely, had actually read the letter inviting Fukurodani. Most kingdoms simply saw the opportunity to feast and drink, and didn’t bother with the context. 

“If this is your version of cool weather, it’s no wonder you cats always seem so tense.” Bokuto laughed as he fanned himself off. “I need another drink already - do you want me to get enough one for all of us.”

Kuroo had a protest ready, not eager to spend time alone with Akaashi while Bokuto took his sweet time getting drinks. It seemed luck was in his favour. 

“Your Majesties,” Kai said as he stepped up to Kuroo’s side and gave short bows to Bokuto and Akaashi. He turned to Kuroo and gave him a pointed look. “Captain. If I may steal you for a moment.”

“Of course,” Kuroo answered easily. He wouldn’t let his concern over whatever Kai had to talk to him about show. “I’ll find you later tonight so we can continue to catch up?”

“You won’t be able to miss us - ‘Kaashi and I are really looking forward to dancing!” Akaashi looked vaguely alarmed at Bokuto’s exclamation, but Kai was guiding Kuroo away before he could truly savor the reaction. 

“Is it urgent?” Kuroo asked as he let Kai lead the way towards a more secluded part of the banquet hall. He frowned as he saw Yaku already waiting. 

So it was urgent. 

“Is another kingdom stirring up trouble?” Kuroo asked as soon as they were within whispering range. Nekoma didn’t technically have official diplomats, so Kai and Yaku had slowly taken that role on. They often checked in with guests and ensured that their reputation wasn't too tarnished. Most people didn’t trust Nekoma, but they never let it get too bad. 

Kuroo would be a good option as a makeshift diplomat had he not the tendency of becoming over familiar. While it did gain him many allies, it did also mean that many of those allies would also strangle him at the first opportunity.

Either way, whenever one of them usually pulled him aside during a banquet, it was because there was some situation that needed deescalating. 

But they’d never spoken to him together.

“It’s nothing like that, but….” Yaku trailed off before looking to Kai, who nodded in encouragement. He took a deep breath and continued strongly. “We can’t prove it, but both Kai and I feel as though we’re being watched. We don’t think it’s anyone from Nekoma, but it feels...it feels almost otherworldly.”

“Otherworldly?” Kuroo asked skeptically. He had never been one for superstitions or the mystics. There were other nations with their mages and sorcerers, but Nekoma had never indulged in anything like that. They had their superstitions and their gods, and that was all they needed.

“Doubt as you must, but Yaku and I both agree that it feels unnatural,” Kai said certainly, causing Kuroo to frown. “And regardless of its source, we know we’re being watched. We’re familiar enough with the feeling that we wouldn’t mistake that.”

Kuroo’s frowned deepened. Magic or not, it was true they knew about stealth. If they felt they were being watched, it was likely they were.

“We don’t have any suspicions yet,” Yaku said. “But we felt it was too dangerous to not let you know. Who knows what they’re looking for.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.” Kuroo nodded to each of them in dismissal, and once they walked away - albeit hesitantly - he clenched his eyes closed. The first night in weeks where he could finally relax, and now he had to spend it constantly looking over his shoulder.

He turned, feeling much less relaxed than he had at the start of the evening. He scanned the room, trying to find someone or something to distract himself with...

Only to notice Lord Daich and King Oikawa talking in a shadowed corner.

He narrowed his eyes at the sight. It wasn’t uncommon for the two to talk, King Oikawa had courted Lord Suga for a time before Suga had ultimately fallen for Daichi. However, it had been an amicable split and the three were on good terms.

However the way the two were waving their hands at each other seemed to suggest otherwise. 

“King Oikawa, Lord Daichi,” Kuroo greeted as he approached. Neither of them cared for titles much, but if his suspicions were correct, it was better to be safe than sorry. They both stilled at the sound of his voice before Oikawa turned to face him with his typical smile.

“Don’t expect me to call you Captain,” Oikawa replied easily. Kuroo rolled his eyes. He would be hard pressed to get any information from him. 

Luckily he wasn’t the only person there.

“How is the new lordship treating you, Sawamura?” Kuroo asked, bringing his glass up to his lips. He’d been excited to find out that meant he’d be granted noble status. Karasuno was a newly thriving land with King Ukai bending traditional notions of royalty, and Kuroo was glad to have a presence like them in their land. 

But Kuroo was also glad that meant he could speak with someone who had less experience dealing with other royals.

“It’s certainly different.” Daichi chuckled, the sound only falling just a touch flat. “I’m not used to the politics of palace life. Being a knight meant simply following orders. Giving them is much more complicated.”

“Yes, well, I heard a rumor that you’re quite the horror when your orders go ignored.” Kuroo smirked as Daichi flushed. Daichi was a temperate man, but when pushed to his limits he could be quite fearsome. He and Bokuto had trained with him during one of their trade trips to Karasuno. They’d seen it first hand.

“Rumors are a funny thing, aren’t they,” Oikawa said, his tone shifting from friendly to calculating. “You never quite know which ones hold merit, and it is always the juiciest ones you have to be the most careful with.” 

Kuroo caught the imploring look Daichi sent Oikawa’s way, and tried to ignore the nerves making his stomach flutter as he turned to face the King of Aoba Johsai fully. “Is there a specific one you’d like to address now, your Majesty.”

“Well, speaking as king of my own sovereign nation, the King of Nekoma has been making some rather bold claims during our realm meetings.” Oikawa took a small sip of wine, and Kuroo tried not to let the silence cause him panic. He knew his king’s ambitions, but he hoped he wasn’t so impatient as to spark suspicion among the other kingdoms. “Normally I wouldn’t pay it any heed. Most kings have a King’s Hand to keep them sane.” Oikawa tapped his finger against his chin in thought, and Kuroo’s eye twitched. “Oh, but, silly me, King Nakashima has no hand to advise him. He only has you...and the little one, Kenma.”

Kuroo crossed his arms, and ignored the strange feeling at the sounds of Kenma’s given name falling from Oikawa’s mouth. “Oikawa, you’ve known me for over a decade. I _know_ you’d never speak ill of another king, but I’ve never given you reason to doubt me.”

Oikawa hummed and narrowed his eyes at Kuroo. “You I take no issue with. It’s the other little kitten that I’m wary of. And I have this dreadful little habit of being clumsy when I’m wary...” He swirled his wine in his cup, and Kuroo watched as a single drop splashed red on his glove. Oikawa gasped dramatically. “Oh my, what a mistake. A stain like this is sure to last.” His gaze snapped back to Kuroo. “Wine is not as simple to clean out as blood, after all.”

Kuroo ruffled. He was no fan of Kenma himself, but he was still one of the highest ranking officers in Nekoma. Thinly veiled or not, a threat was a threat, and Kuroo couldn’t let that stand. 

But he also couldn’t say that Oikawa had no reason to worry. 

“I doubt any rumors surrounding Kozume are true.” Daichi stepped in, saying the line as though he’d repeated it dozens of times before. “Every year new ones get made, each more vile than the last. And every year, none of them ever come true.”

Oikawa pouted, and then all the tension seemed to melt away. Kuroo could’ve kissed Daichi. 

“Although.” And perhaps he spoke too soon. “I must admit I am...surprised, to say the least, of Kozume’s continued communication with Hinata.”

“Hinata?” Oikawa asked in surprise, just a moment before Kuroo could. He’d known nothing of Kenma communicating with individuals from other kingdoms. He barely spoke to the people in his own castle. “The little knight you have that your prince has a soft spot for?”

“My prince, and every other prince in the land.” Daichi snorted. “But yes, him. He mentioned he’d spoken to Kozume at a ball many seasons ago, but I hadn’t the slightest clue they’d continued writing to each other since then.”

This was the first Kuroo had ever heard of Kenma even knowing Hinata, let alone talking to him. Unbidden, he remembered the document Kenma had been so keen on hiding just a few days prior. There had been an emblem of a bird - a crow, perhaps?

Suddenly, he felt the hair at the back of his neck rise up, and he turned around in time to see the man in question staring at the cup in his hand as Hinata Shouyou of Karasuno laughed at his side. They were both standing far from Kuroo, but he swore he saw the uptick of Kenma’s mouth.

Just then, music started playing. 

“Oh, finally, I was wondering when it’d be time for dancing.” Oikawa handed his cup to Kuroo as if he was a servant, and wiggled his fingers in goodbye. “This was a lovely little chat. All the best to Karasuno and Nekoma.”

Kuroo barely responded with the customary, “Likewise,” before he was walking across the room directly towards Kenma. 

He knew Kenma. He may not know him personally, but he knew how he worked and that there was always a play when it came to him. 

He just wasn’t sure exactly what it was this time.

In large part to the moving bodies that had begun twirling around the room just moments after the music began, Kuroo was able to get to Kenma before the other man noticed him. Kenma startled as Kuroo stepped by his side, and he tried not to relish the reaction too much.

“Dance with me.”

Kenma looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “No.”

He moved to walk away, but Kuroo just matched his step. “Walk with me then.”

Kenma pursed lips, but he knew better than to start an argument with him now. Fighting during a private meeting with the king was one thing. Fighting in front of their allies - and signaling unease in Nekoma’s ranks - was another. Kenma wouldn’t push back on this.

Kuroo would’ve preferred the privacy of dancing, but he knew he’d been pushing his luck when he asked anyway.

“Well, what is it?” Kenma asked as they circled the dance floor. Kuroo shot him a glance, but Kenma’s eyes were trained on the crowd of dancers.

“Perhaps I just wanted to check in on my fellow nobleman.” Kuroo smirked at the thought. Kenma didn’t seem to find him quite so amusing.

“If that’s all then…” Kenma rolled his eyes as he moved to walk away from him, but Kuroo caught him quickly by the elbow. Kenma stilled, and then slowly turned his head to where Kuroo’s hand was grasping him.

“You know well enough that’s not all,” Kuroo said as he slowly retracted his hand. He refused the urge to clench his fist, Kenma stilted reaction and the heat still lingering from the point of contact too strange for him to bother himself with.

“Then what is it that you need?” Kenma returned to Kuroo’s side slowly, before he resumed walking as if nothing had happened. 

“What are your intentions with the little knight from Karasuno.” Kuroo regretted his wording almost as soon as he spoke. At the bewildered look on Kenma’s face, his regret only intensified.

“My intentions?” Kenma brows lifted high on his head. “With Shouyou?”

Shouyou. Hearing the knight’s given name from Kenma’s mouth gave Kuroo a similar feeling to hearing Kenma’s given name from Oikawa’s. Similar, but not exactly alike.

It was enough to make him forget his previous embarrassment. 

“Yes.” Kuroo guided them out of the way of an upcoming group of drunks. Kenma flinched as the group of men laughed boisterously, and Kuroo’s brow furrowed at the action before he shook his head. “What is the meaning of your continued communication with him?”

“Oh, that.” Kenma waved his hand dismissively. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Like hell it’s not my concern.” Kuroo turned his head to narrow his eyes at Kenma. “As Captain of the Guard, I need to know when you're working from an angle. I struggle enough to cover up the rumors that already exist about you.”

Kenma flinched again, and Kuroo found himself pausing. What was it that was causing the unshakable Kozume Kenma to waver now?

“As I said, it’s none of your concern.” Kenma was looking towards the doors of the hall now, clearly planning an escape route. Kuroo grabbed him by his arm, and this time Kenma’s head didn’t even twitch in his direction.

He couldn’t tell which reaction was better. 

“I’m your Captain of the Guard,” Kuroo pressed on, unwilling to let Kenma simply brush him off. “From time to time you need to listen to me.”

“I need to listen to you?” Kuroo was fully unprepared for Kenma to look back at him then. Usually, it took more pestering and provoking for him to even glance in his direction. Having Kenma stare at him so directly, so unexpectedly made a feeling stronger than shivers race down his spine. 

Kuroo looked up to avoid his large eyes, and regretted the meek action immediately. “Yes,” he said roughly, before clearing his throat. “I mean, of course - ”

“Would you listen to me?” Kenma’s voice was so quiet Kuroo almost missed it. He tilted his head down to look back at Kenma, but the other man had already turned his gaze away. “If I asked something of you right now, and said it was for the sake of Nekoma, would you listen to me?”

Kuroo blinked. He opened his mouth, but the words he knew would appease Kenma wouldn’t form.

He knew the answer. They both did, he suspected.

Kenma pulled his arm from his grasp, and walked away from Kuroo without another word.

_22 Days_

The sound of steel hitting steel was not as satisfying as Kuroo had hoped it would be. 

He stabbed his sword into the dirt of the training grounds and sighed as he surveyed the dummy before him. He’d perhaps been a touch too aggressive with it. It was meant to take a significant beating without falling apart, but Kuroo grimaced as he noticed the many dents and scratches marring its surface. 

And yet, despite all the effort he’d exerted, Kuroo still felt as frustrated as he did when he’d entered the training ground hours ago.

That was how awfully his latest meeting with King Nakashima and Kenma had gone. 

Kenma had come prepared with a list of things they would gain in overcoming Aoba Johsai. Kuroo took the opportunity to point out that King Oikawa was already wary and suspicious of Nekoma, and that attempting a surprise attack wouldn’t be likely anymore. 

Kenma twisted his words until they were beyond recognition.

With his words, Kenma painted a picture for King Nakishima of Aoba Johsai succumbing to the world of rumors and fantasy instead of the trust they claimed to have in Nekoma. He said that regardless of what happened in these meetings, Nekoma had maintained all sides of their treaty without fail, and had even gone out of their way to invite the kingdom to their ball just the week before. Kenma finished by saying Aoba Johsai was likely simply looking for a reason to distrust Nekoma. If they already were searching, why not simply give it to them?

That was the first time Kuroo had seen King Nakashima seriously consider marching on Aoba Johsai. 

Kuroo clenched his fist tight around the hilt of his sword and yanked it out of the dirt. One meeting in Kenma’s favor was not enough to completely sway their king. He was cautious to a fault, and would take as much time as he deemed necessary to make his decision. 

But he’d already decided that a month was all the time he’d need. That meant that now Kuroo had barely three weeks left to convince him, and Kenma had gained ground today not by bringing up his own arguments, but by turning Kuroo’s against him. 

He was prepared to spend the rest of the day training in order to burn off the anger he felt at that. 

To make matters worse, he’d received a letter from Bokuto just the night before about the state of things in Fukurodani. They were holding their ground, but Nohebi had gained a devastating win over them. The letter overall sounded optimistic, but Kuroo could sense the worry underneath. If Nekoma didn’t march on Nohebi within the next month, who knows the state Fukorodani will be in. In fact, if Nekoma marched on Aoba Johsai while the skirmishes on Fukurodani's border escalated, it would only be a matter of time before the entire realm went up in flames. 

He swung his sword, hoping the sound of the impact would drown his thoughts out of his head. 

Instead, he heard the sound of the door to the training area opening. Kuroo looked up just as Kenma walked in. Kuroo nearly dropped his sword in surprise.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he asked, though Kenma continued walking towards the weapons as if he hadn’t said a word. Kuroo narrowed his eyes. “Are you up to something? You’ve never been in here before.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” Kenma finally said as he surveyed the wall of knives available for training. He picked one of the larger ones up, weighing it as he continued, “Don’t presume to know what I do with my time when I’m not around you.”

Annoyance rushed through Kuroo, mostly because he knew Kenma was right. Whatever. He was here to train, and train he would continue to do. If he kept an eye out for Kenma as he continued studying the different knives, it was only because he wasn’t a fool.

Kenma stayed on the grounds long enough that Kuroo almost forgot he was there. It wasn’t until he heard the familiar sound of a knife being thrown that he was immediately reminded. He turned swiftly, sword up to protect himself, but Kenma had simply thrown the knife into one of the wooden pillars lining the grounds. He frowned thoughtfully at the knife, before walking to retrieve it.

Kuroo hadn’t even known Kenma could throw knives with any accuracy.

“It is a wonder that I’ve never even seen you in here once,” Kuroo called out. Kenma offered him a small shrug as he tugged the knife from the pillar and Kuroo huffed. “Well, how can I, as Captain of the Guard, not know how well one of the men in the King’s closest circle can fight?”

Kenma snorted, and the sound was so new and unexpected that Kuroo couldn’t help the way his eyes went wide. Kenma didn’t seem to notice. “I’m not so dumb as to fight you now. I’d hardly last a round.”

Kuroo stared at Kenma in confusion. First the laugh - as small as it had been, it was still a laugh - and now the near compliment. He wasn’t sure if Kenma had been kidnapped and he was simply dealing with an imposter, because that certainly made much more sense than how Kenma was behaving now. 

Kenma glanced at Kuroo, and Kuroo watched in wonder as his eyes widened when he noticed Kuroo’s staring. It was like seeing a completely new person. 

Then his face settled into the usual impassivity, and Kuroo’s stomach dropped as he realized what was likely to come next.

“If I was going to fight you I would hit you when you were at your most vulnerable.” Kenma tilted his head consideringly at him, and Kuroo repressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Or, if our meeting with the King indicates anything, perhaps it’s _where_ you’re most vulnerable.”

Kenma turned away from him then, making his way toward the exit of the grounds, but Kuroo was not going to let him simply walk away again. Quickly chucking off his training armor and sword, he followed after Kenma through the doors. 

He stepped out into the corridors, and caught sight of Kenma just as he was turning down a hall. Kuroo rushed after him, his footstep pounding loudly against the stone floor, and by the time he made it to the corner, Kenma had turned to look at him in complete bewilderment. 

“Why are you - ”

“I understand,” Kuroo interrupted immediately, chest heaving with the unexpected burst of energy. “That you and I are never going to get along. I’ve come to peace with that.” Kenma remained silent as he spoke, though his eyes were trailing off to the side. “But would it truly kill you to not be the literal worst.”

“Shh.” 

Kuroo blinked as Kenma hushed him, his eyes not focused on him at all. Kenma wasn’t even _listening_ to him.

“Are you serious?” Kenma held a single finger impatiently, and Kuroo let out an incredulous laugh. Kenma shot him an annoyed glare, but Kuroo just shook his head in disbelief. “I am trying to _talk_ to you right now, you can’t simply - ”

Kenma moved then, quicker than Kuroo thought he was capable of, and pushed at Kuroo chest until his back hit the wall. He stepped close, so close that Kuroo could feel the heat of him on his skin. But no part of them touched, saved for Kenma’s small hand still pressing into his chest.

“Uh,” Kuroo said unsteadily, dragging the word out until Kenma pressed more insistently on his chest. He looked down at the man, about a million questions running through his head, until he noticed the way his head was tilted just to the left. 

And then the voices down the hall finally registered.

“I didn’t tell you a month on whim - there’s a reason I need it by that day.” 

Kuroo’s brow furrowed as he registered the voice of King Nakashima. He was whispering, making it difficult to hear, but Kuroo would recognize that tone of anger anywhere.

Someone else responded, voice too timid and unfamiliar for Kuroo to recognize, but then the sound of something slapping the wall interrupted them.

“I have no time for your useless excuses,” the King hissed. “I have everything else I need. This is the last piece - if you can not find this for me, I’ll simply find someone who can and use you as the sacrifice instead.”

The voice responded quickly, and the King chuckled darkly. “As I thought. You’ve three weeks to find it for me. Once you do, the realm will have no choice but to bow to Nekoma.”

Kuroo’s mind was racing. He had no idea what the King was talking about. As far as he knew, the only people he had ever directly discussed his military plans with were Kuroo and Kenma. And he had certainly never mentioned some item that would help him conquer _the entire realm._

Based on the look of his face, this was news to Kenma as well.

The voices continued moving away from them, and it was then that Kuroo realized that right around the corner were the doors to the dungeons. Dungeon doors only a select few had access to. Dungeon doors that opened and closed just then, keeping the rest of the King’s secrets from them. 

A beat of silence passed, and then Kenma stepped away from him, pulling his hand back to his side. Kuroo felt himself chase the touch for just a moment, before he caught himself and cleared his throat. Kenma didn’t even look up. He looked so lost in thought that Kuroo didn’t even know what he could say to pull him out of them.

“Captain Kuroo? Chief Kenma?”

Had he been anywhere else, Kuroo would have jumped at the sound of his name. Instead, Kuroo turned as naturally as possible to face the young squire Shibayama. He was looking between him and Kenma with confusion clear on his face.

It seemed the whole castle knew of the animosity between the two of them. 

“I’ve left something in the library,” Kenma said, already beginning his retreat. “Captain, please tell Yamamoto I’ll be running late.”

Kuroo nodded immediately, and he heard Shibayama make a noise of understanding beside them. At least he could count on Kenma’s quick thinking for something. 

But that didn’t solve anything in regards to what the emperor had been talking about. He watched as Kenma walked in the opposite direction they had come from, and wondered if he had any theories yet. He would have to find a way to talk to him alone about this.

But later that evening, as he entered his room for the night, he found that Kenma had already prepared for that. He picked up the note that had clearly been slid under his door and saw that it only had tomorrow’s date, a time, and directions for a room in the southside of the castle. There was no signature, but Kuroo had glared at enough of Kenma’s memos to recognize his handwriting by just a glance.

Tomorrow evening he’d be talking with Kenma about a potential conspiracy regarding the King. He wondered who would stab the other first. 

_21 Days_

Kuroo studied the door in front of him for a long moment. He’d never spent much time in the astronomy wing of the castle, and had never even noticed the unlit hall Kenma’s directions had taken him down.

It wasn’t that he was expecting for Kenma to come from behind the door and attack him. But Kuroo could admit he was a bit wary. He and Kenma were about to discuss their King in the dead of night in a room that Kenma had decided on himself.

Kuroo felt as if he had no control over anything. 

But still, standing there would do nothing for him. He knocked on the door, unsure of what was expected of him.

A beat passed, and then the door swung open to reveal Kenma.

“The door was unlocked,” he said by way of greeting before he turned back into the room. Kuroo pursed his lips, and before he could follow Kenma added, “However, do lock the door behind you now.”

Suppressing his instinct to defy Kenma, Kuroo did as he said before surveying the room they were in. 

It was small, with only a table at its center and a desk at the corner. There were books and documents already there, but Kuroo was unsure if they were Kenma’s or had been simply left behind. But what caught Kuroo’s attention most was the ceiling. There were no windows along the walls of the room, but there was a large, glass pane taking up the majority of the ceiling. It showed a striking view of the night sky, and the moon was so bright from above they hardly needed the lamp Kenma had burning.

“Clever,” he noted as he pulled one of the few chairs out - all while keeping his eyes trained above. “With no windows, we don’t have to worry about the night guard catching sight of the light in the room.”

“We also shouldn’t have to worry about using too much oil for our lamps,” Kenma said as he settled at the table. “It’s a small thing, but doing all we can to reduce any chance of suspicion will be key.”

“So you do intend for this to be a regular thing?” Kuroo said with a raised brow. He’d suspected as much, but he did have his doubts. It was hard to picture him and Kenma working together for very long. 

“Unless you know something I don’t, then absolutely.” Kenma kept his eyes trained on the grain of the table, but Kuroo could still see the way his lips twisted in a small scowl. “The King is clearly planning something - something neither of us had any clue about. If we are to figure it out, we’ll need more than a night to do so.”

“So that _is_ what we’re doing then.” Kuroo looked intently at Kenma. Kenma remained silent, and Kuroo pushed further. “Conspiring against the King, I mean.”

“Don’t say it out loud,” Kenma hissed, eyes darting side to side. “And it’s not conspiring. It’s...if we’re meant to inform the King, we need all possible information at our disposal. This is us getting that necessary information.”

“Even if it’s clear the King doesn’t want us to have it.” Kuroo knew his words sounded smug, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t everyday he got to corner Kenma like this. And when Kenma looked up to glare at him, the grin on his face grew wider despite the tingle in his spine. 

Kenma looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he simply narrowed his eyes and continued. “Regardless of what we don’t know, we do know some things. We know the King is missing something for his plans, that he’s using the vaulted dungeon to hide it, and that his timeline follows the timeline he gave us to convince him of what nation to march on.”

“And that he has someone else doing his dirty work,” Kuroo added with a sigh. “Did you recognize the voice of the other person, because I haven’t a clue.”

“I think so.” Kenma’s frown deepened, while Kuroo perked up in interest. “His name is Teppei Naruko. He was one of the castle astronomers before he disappeared.” Kuroo blinked, recognizing the name. The man had been known for making wild predictions that had about a 50/50 rate of accuracy. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem Kenma was quite done talking. “I had figured you would know him as well, given how you make it a point to befriend practically everyone in the castle.”

Coming from anyone else, that sentence could’ve been a compliment. Kenma just had the incredible skill of turning everything negative when it came to Kuroo.

“In order for this to work, you need to not antagonize me every other second.” Kenma shot Kuroo an unimpressed look, looking at him for the first time that evening. Kuroo gestured at him pointedly, ignoring the shivers down his spine. “See, like that, you’ve got to stop doing things you know are going to upset me.”

“I’m looking at you, Kuroo,” Kenma said blandly. “I assumed you had thicker skin than this.”

“You are looking down your nose at me, and we both know you’ve riled me up countless times before.”

“You say that as if you don’t do the same,” Kenma said. His face remained passive, but he began tapping one of his fingers on the table. “How many meetings have we walked out of only for you to find the need to make conversation with me?”

Kuroo looked at Kenma in exasperation. “I was trying to be courteous! You’re the one who rebuffs me constantly, only responding when I poke fun at you.”

“Courteous you claim.” Kenma huffed, and it was the closest Kuroo had ever come to making Kenma laughing. “Courteous and yet you won’t even call me by my preferred name.” 

Kuroo pursed his lips. He knew Kenma had everyone call him by his given name, and that most people in the castle saw no issue with it. Hell, apparently those outside of the castle had caught on. 

But it felt too...strange to call him anything but Kozume. 

“It’s a sign of respect,” Kuroo answered stiltedly. “It would be unfair to call you by your given name when we’re of equal ranking.”

“I could call you Tetsurou.”

Kuroo stilled, his blood freezing before running hot in his veins. He knew that Kenma called his comrades by their given name in return, but he didn’t know that Kenma was even aware of Kuroo’s given name.

“Isn’t that a touch too familiar?” Kuroo said, the strain of his voice barely perceptible. He tried not to let Kenma’s words affect him. He called everyone by their given name. “We’ve barely had a civil conversation before.”

“A nickname then?” Kenma titled his chin down, but Kuroo caught a glimpse of the twitch of his lips. “What of the one King Oikawa calls you?”

“Absolutely not.” Kuroo sighed as he eyed Kenma. “And you’re not doing a great job of getting along right now.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice.” Kenma shrugged and played with the end of the paper in front of him. “We can’t involve anyone else, so we have to work together whether we like each other or not.”

Kuroo nodded slowly. At least they were on the same page about that. Just this meeting alone was enough for the two of them to get hanged. Bringing anyone into this would both increase the likelihood of being found out and risk other lives unnecessarily. 

It would have to just be him and Kenma, so they were going to have to put aside their differences.

“You’re right.” Kenma blinked in surprise, but Kuroo powered on. “Besides, us working together could be productive.” Kenma looked blandly at Kuroo and he shrugged. “It's not like our relationship can get any worse. Plus, because of you, now we know Teppei is involved. We just have to figure out why they need the dungeons above the catacombs.”

Kenma’s eyes went wide before he stood up and began sorting through the different books. “Those dungeons are above catacombs? You’re absolutely certain?”

Kuroo leaned back, completely taken off guard by the flurry of movement. He’d never seen Kenma so focused in his life. “Yes, those were the western dungeons - where we take the worst criminals of the land. Most of them are killed and end up in the catacombs below.”

Kenma huffed in frustration as he got the bottom of the pile, and glared at the books as if they had personally wronged him. Perhaps they had. Kuroo hadn’t a clue what was going on. “I was certain I’d brought that book from the library…”

“What are you talking about?” Kuroo asked, waving his hand in front of Kenma to remind him that he was still there.

Kenma scrunched his nose at the movement, but then pulled a large book from the farther corner of the table closer to them. Kuroo leaned in close as he flipped through the pages until he stopped at one that had a calendar on it. It took him another moment for him to realize it was for the month they were in, and another to realize it was meant to chart moon phases. 

“This is the date King Nakshima told us to decide by, the date he told Teppei to deliver by,” Kenma said as he pointed at a square later in the month. “It’s also the day of the next full moon. The King may seldom say it, but he’s a superstitious man. Whatever he’s planning, he wants it to be on the full moon.” Kenma retracted his finger, but kept his eyes trained on the book. “If he’s meeting above the catacombs and looking for a well hidden object, then whatever he’s planning likely has something to do with the occult.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in all that?” Kuroo couldn’t help the disappointment settling in his chest. If there was one person he thought would be above talks of magic and gods, it would be Kenma. He planned things too carefully to leave things to fate.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” Kenma said with a small shake of his head. “What matters is what the King believes. And what he’s willing to do for said beliefs.”

Silence fell over them both and Kuroo frowned thoughtfully. He himself wasn’t very familiar with the myths and legends of magic in the land, preferring to study what was certain and known. But this would explain why the King was speaking of sacrifices. 

“Well then, we know more than we thought we did at the start.” Kuroo leaned back in his chair with a heave as he crossed his arms. “What do we do next?”

Kenma studied Kuroo, and he tried his best not to fidget under his gaze. He didn’t think he’d had his direct attention for so long. Kenma finally looked away, pulling the book with him. 

“I’m not sure,” he admitted with a small frown. “You’re right - I’m not one for the mystics myself. I know enough to put this together, but not enough to know what the King is planning or how to stop him.”

Kuroo listened consideringly. “So it seems like we both have work to do. We should act as if we know nothing during the day, meet a couple nights a week to research and discuss, and try not to raise the King’s suspicions,” Kuroo grinned again as he looked at one of the discarded papers on the table, this one feeling a little more natural on his face. He did love a good challenge. “Sounds straightforward enough.”

He looked up at Kenma good naturedly, but was surprised to see him already staring at him. Again.

“Kuro.” Kuroo’s eyebrows rose high on his face in surprise, but Kenma seemed unfazed. “You won’t let me call you by your given name, so Kuro can be your nickname when we meet here.”

Kuroo tilted his head as he furrowed his brows. “Why Kuro?”

Kenma’s eyes scanned over him quickly, the movement lasting less than a few seconds, but still making Kuroo feel bare before him. He slowly lowered his eyes again, turning the page of the book before him.

“It suits you.”

_19 Days_

And so it was set. Kuroo and Kenma would meet to research every other night while they maintained their usual demeanor around each other during the day.

It was strange to experience. It wasn’t as if they became two completely different people at night. They still bickered. A lot.

“So this is what I found after some time in the library,” Kuroo said as he opened the book he’d brought with him. Kenma was sitting in his customary spot across the table from him, and leaned closer to get a better look at the book. “It’s an old ritual that no one ever talks about anymore, but it’s supposed to make a king’s army have incredible strength - ”

“That’s not it,” Kenma interrupted, looking away from the book in a clear dismissal. 

Kuroo gaped at him. “You didn’t even let me finish explaining!”

“If it was something as simple as increasing the strength of his army, the King wouldn’t be going through such length to hide it,” Kenma said as he looked between the book that was in front of him, and the scroll he’d placed next to him.

Kuroo frowned. It was a good point, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to like it. “Then what do you have in mind, all knowing one?”

Kenma huffed irritably, but he did rapidly turn the pages of the book in front of him before turning it so Kuroo could read it.

“It’s a little...graphic,” Kenma started, but Kuroo was quick to cut him off. 

“A little you say!” He pointed to the diagram on the right side of the page. “Kenma, this requires the bones, skin, and hair of a body be completely separated from a single person!”

“Well, it also guarantees eternal life,” Kenma snapped. “That is something the King would actually keep a secret from even his closest circle.”

Kuroo scanned the ritual, a little horrified at the idea that this could be what King Nakashima was attempting, before he caught a symbol on the upper left corner.

“Kenma, this ritual doesn’t require the full moon,” he said, turning the book just a bit so Kenma could see it better. “It needs a new moon. There’s an extra slash in old texts like these that mark the difference.”

Kenma furrowed his brow, and looked almost disappointed. “Oh.”

“Forgive me, did you _want_ this to be what the King was working on?” Kuroo asked in complete shock. “I knew you were terrifying, but this is to a completely different degree.”

“Gods, calm down, Kuro,” Kenma huffed, using Kuroo’s nickname for the first time that night. He tried not to think about how much it pleased him. “I just hoped we would have been lucky enough to figure it out so quickly.”

“So you saw this, and thought this was the most plausible ritual the King would use,” Kuroo said drily. 

Kenma was even more dangerous than he thought.

Kenma looked up to give him a flat look. “Have you met our King Nakashima?”

A laugh startled out of Kuroo, loud and surprised. He’d never heard Kenma make a joke before. Kenma stared at him a moment, before turning back to this scroll. 

“Your laughter is more obnoxious than a cat's wailing.”

Kuroo chuckled again, though it was more subdued, and threw a scrap piece of paper of Kenma.

Kuroo still thought Kenma was more trouble than he was worth. And he didn’t trust Kenma as far as Kenma could throw _him._ And Kenma was still, without a doubt, sadistic as all hell. If anything, their most recent meeting has proved that Kuroo has barely even scratched the surface when it came to the lengths Kenma would go.

But he wasn’t the worst person in the world. Daishou existed, after all.

And Kuroo would be comfortable with Kenma ranking just above Daishou. Except sometimes their conversation took a turn away from theories and research, and became more personal.

Such as now.

“So what of your hair?” 

The two were up even later tonight, having found no major clues but both too stubborn to go to bed defeated. But Kuroo was beginning to get restless and his eyes were beginning to burn from reading for so long. 

Kenma’s hand went still for a moment before he resumed writing like nothing had happened. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“I mean, it hasn’t always been this color,” Kuroo said as he eyed the long strands. Only half his head was blonde, the rest of his hair his natural black color. When he’d first met Kenma, his hair had been as dark as his own. Then the next time he’d seen him - which was well over a year later - it had been entirely blonde. “There must’ve been a reason you dyed it.”

Kenma reached up to touch his hair, and Kuroo was shocked to see the traces of pinks on his cheeks. “I still don’t see what that has to do with what we’re doing.”

“Are you blushing?” Kuroo had never seen Kenma come close to flustering before, but now there was a steadily increasing blush on his cheeks and Kuroo couldn’t help the delight rising in his chest. “You _are_ blushing, are you truly so timid?”

“What about that is surprising?” Kenma grouched, ducking his head - a truly futile thing since Kuroo was still able to see his blush clearly.

“I’ve just never seen you look so shy,” Kuroo said with a chuckle. Kenma whipped his head up to look at Kuroo as if he’d grown a second head.

“Are you mocking me?” Kuroo tilted in confusion, and Kenma squinted his eyes at him. “Kuro, I’ve always been...withdrawn. This is a well known fact.”

Kuroo laughed loudly. What was Kenma trying to accomplish? “You are _not_. Someone who was shy or timid wouldn’t readily insult or threaten me given the first opportunity.”

Kenma made a face, and it took Kuroo a moment to realize he was pouting. Pouting! What was he even witnessing? “That’s different. When you and I interact, there usually aren't many other people around. Large groups and crowds are...different.”

Kuroo then remembered the night of the ball from almost a week ago. The way Kenma had shied away from the group of laughing men. In fact, save for the very end, Kuroo couldn’t recall seeing Kenma for the majority of the night.

“...I suppose I never realized.”

Kenma looked at Kuroo disbelievingly again, and Kuroo wondered if he would ever say anything correctly to the other man. “How could you not have realized? I can barely stand to make eye contact when someone is speaking to me, and rarely even speak during meetings.”

Kenma dropped his gaze yet again and Kuroo’s lips parted in surprise. He’d just assumed Kenma thought himself above everyone. He’d never considered he was just shy. That made his behavior so much more...empathetic. 

Made him seem so much more human.

Guilt tugged at Kuroo for his presumptions. He cleared his throat, and tried not to let it get to him when Kenma didn’t look up. “I used to be quite meek myself.”

Kenma scoffed. “Don’t offer me pity in the form of lies.”

“I’m not lying,” Kuroo said with a frown. “I really was. For the majority of my childhood I was such a quiet child people often wondered if I even knew how to speak.”

Kuroo had thought that this would have provided him and Kenma with some connection. They didn’t have much in common, but Kuroo was at least trying. The only one of them to do so it seemed.

“Well then what happened?”

Kuroo blinked in surprise, too stunned to speak. Kenma sighed as he kept his eyes trained on the book in front of him. “You’re clearly not a quiet child anymore. So what happened?”

Kuroo remained silent for a moment longer before he stuttered out, “I, well, when I was younger I lived much further away from the castle. Like I said, I was shy and spent a lot of time in my room because playing outdoors was only fun if you had someone to play with.”

Kenma was still looking at the book in front him, but Kuroo saw that his eyes hadn’t moved since he began speaking. Taking that as a sign he was listening, he continued. “There was a forest by my house, and I was absolutely terrified of it. My room was on the second story of the house, and from the window it looked like the forest never ended. But it was pretty sparse. I could usually catch sight of animals walking around if I looked hard enough. And then one day, I saw this boy.”

Kuroo paused again, and this time Kenma wasn’t even pretending to read, he was just staring at the table between them. Kuroo grinned. “I had no idea what he was doing out there. He never showed up at the same time, and he always appeared with some object in his hand. I didn’t know a single thing about him, but I had never wanted to meet someone so much in my life.”

“He seemed so brave to me.” Kuroo laughed softly at the memory. It was hazy at best, but watching the boy seemingly appear and disappear from the forest was one of Kuroo’s earliest memories. Or at least the earliest happy one. “He was out there all on his own, and it inspired me almost. It took ages, but one day I finally built up the courage to go into the forest on my own to try and meet him.”

Kuroo smiled softly. He remembered trembling with fear as he stood at the edge of the forest. All the trees had looked so much taller, and all the shadows so much darker. But he managed to take the first step. And then the next. And the next. And - 

“And?” Kenma asked, pulling Kuroo from his thoughts. He turned to look back at him, and was taken aback to see Kenma resting his head on his arms, the book now pushed aside. “Did you meet him?”

Kuroo laughed softly. “No, I didn’t. I was either awful with directions or the boy had left by the time I worked up the nerve, but I didn’t meet him. And after that day, I never saw the boy again.”

“But once I actually got into the forest, I realized it wasn’t as scary as I made it out to be,” Kuroo said and he felt himself smile wide. “I figured if I could take on a forest, talking to people was nothing in comparison. After that, I started breaking out of my shell more and more and became the charming man you see before you.”

“That was almost an endearing story,” Kenma said with a sigh. Kuroo laughed again. He wasn’t sure the last time he’d laugh so effortlessly.

“Well, I’d love to hear one in return.” Kuroo leaned forward in his seat in his eagerness. “What was Kozume Kenma like before he decided he was best suited as a professional master of torture.”

Kenma hummed and sat up properly again. “Looking for a way to prove I’m actually human?”

Kuroo wondered for the nth time if Kenma had the ability to read minds. It may not have been his current thought, but it was close enough to what he’d been thinking before to cause him doubt. He was still going to be indigent about the statement though. “Why would I be trying to do that?”

“You think me a monster.”

Kuroo frowned deeply, his words coming out more seriously. “I think you dangerous, not a monster.”

“Does the difference matter?” Kenma sighed then, and began closing the many books around them. “Monsters are dangerous. It’s why we fear them.”

“Monsters are dangerous through no fault of their own.” Kuroo pulled the book Kenma was reaching for away. He wouldn't let him simply avoid the conversation. “Your danger is of a different sort.”

Kenma’s hand stilled. “A different sort.”

That was the best way Kuroo could think to describe it at least. Kenma was of course dangerous because his position and the power that it allowed him. But he had other dangers too. His mind, and its ability to pick up on the most minuscule of details. His eyes, and the way they could pierce through anyone. His mouth, a quip always ready on the tip of his tongue and lips always poised to frown or scowl. 

“Yes,” was all Kuroo could manage to say.

Kenma's mouth twitched up, just for a moment, but Kuroo caught the movement despite himself. This was the danger he was talking of. “So something like a demon? Their danger is by their own doing.”

“Why must you compare yourself to things that don’t exist,” Kuroo snapped. Kenma blinked in surprise, and Kuroo looked back down to the book in his hands with a scowl. “You’re real, and everything else you list is not. It’d be impossible for a thing of imagination to capture the danger of someone real, like you.”

Kuroo clicked his jaw closed after the final word, trying to simply ignore Kenma’s presence. He felt angry for a reason he couldn’t describe, like he’d lost a game he’d only been playing against himself. Except that wasn’t true - it could never be true. Whenever a game was involved, Kenma was always playing. Always playing and always too many steps ahead to catch up to.

He felt a touch against his arm, and looked down in surprise to see Kenma fingertips barely brushing against him. He stared for perhaps a touch too long at them, but if so, it was only because those fingers lingered against him for just as long. 

As Kenma slowly withdrew his hand, Kuroo looked up, completely ready to meet Kenma’s direct gaze. It didn’t stop the shivers that had come to be second nature to Kuroo making their way down his back.

“But I’m still dangerous?” Kenma asked this lowly, his mouth barely working around the words. His chin was tilted down enough that his eyes seemed larger than usual, and there was something in them that was different than the usual disinterest. 

Kuroo swallowed.

“Yes. More dangerous than I can say.”

_17 days until the full moon_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo paused. “Pardon?”
> 
> “In a world where things were different,” Kenma started slowly before he dragged his eyes back to Kuroo. “If you could have anything, what would you want?”
> 
> Kenma’s words were said blankly, but without any teasing or provocation. Kuroo had learned to differentiate the tone’s Kenma used when he was trying to rile Kuroo up, and when he was genuinely asking a question. This tone was the latter.
> 
> And yet the question managed to burn something fierce in Kuroo. The feeling started deep in his chest and rose until his skin seemed to itch with it.
> 
> What would he want, if he could have it?
> 
> “Lots of things,” Kuroo breathed.
> 
> -
> 
> Kuroo tries to know Kenma, for all he is, and is fully unprepared for the consequences of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THAT WAS A LITTLE LONGER THEN TEN DAYS HUH
> 
> i VASTLY underestimated both how much more i had left of my more recently published fic and how much free time i would have on break while visiting my family 
> 
> BUT its here now!!!! 
> 
> THANKS FOR EVER TO [CHRISTY](https://twitter.com/kodzukuro)MWAH MWAH MWAH BEST BETA READER EVER MWAH

_15 Days_

One thing Kenma was skilled in was avoidance. Kuroo had seen him manage to avoid a gaze, a request, and a Lev much too many times to be ignorant of the fact that Kenma was good at evading what he didn’t like.

Just like he avoided Kuroo’s questions about his hair. This was the third meeting since Kuroo had first asked him, and Kenma managed to leave the last two without giving him any sort of answer.

However, Kuroo was not going to let him get away with it again.

“So, is tonight the night you finally regale me with the story of your hair?” Kuroo drawled. There was a new moon that night, and they needed many candles to work. It meant Kuroo’s eyes had begun to strain even earlier than usual while trying to read the many scrolls. 

It also meant that the ends of Kenma’s hair seemed even more gold, his eyes seemed to carry more warmth.

It was distracting in a way Kuroo’s restless mind was all too eager to cling to. 

“The story truly isn’t all that interesting.” Kenma closed the book in front of him, and rubbed his fingers against his shut eyes. It seemed that Kuroo wasn’t the only one struggling to get anything done.

And yet neither of them were making any move to leave.

“Is the story of how you learned to throw knives more entertaining then?” Kuroo was still surprised at Kenma’s skill. It wasn’t a talent most people had — too impractical during a large battle — but it was a frightening skill to have nonetheless.

“Let me correct myself.” Kenma dropped his arms and leveled Kuroo with a flat stare. “No story I have is all that interesting.”

“I hardly believe that, you’re one of the most interesting people I know,” Kuroo replied and Kenma groaned lightly as he tilted his head back to bang it gently against the back of his chair. The movement arched his neck in a way that immediately drew Kuroo’s gaze. He found his mouth going dry as he watched the candlelight flicker against the exposed expanse of Kenma’s skin that ran from his throat to just under his collarbones.

Kuroo’s hand twitched in its place underneath the table.

“How can I be one of the most interesting people you know when you barely know me?” Kenma said with a sigh. His tone of voice was off, lacking its usual disinterest and apathy. He almost sounded resentful.

Kuroo liked to think he knew Kenma. Maybe not perfectly, but he knew him well enough. He certainly knew him better than before, after several nights of meeting like this. Knew how rough his edges truly were, and how soft the upturn of his lips could be.

But there was plenty more he’d like to know, Kuroo thought a moment before he managed to tear his gaze away from Kenma’s skin. 

Yes, plenty of things. Like why his hair was the color it was, and such.

“Prove me wrong then.” Kuroo pulled the scroll Kenma was reaching for away from him, and just shrugged when Kenma looked up to glare at him. They both knew their eyes were too tired to get anything substantial done. “If you tell me more about you, you can prove you're not one of the most interesting people I know.”

“You just want to be able to say you know me,” Kenma complained, slumping back in his chair.

Kuroo grinned. “What’s so bad about that?”

Kenma scowled, but didn’t say anything more for a while. That was fine. Kuroo had learned he sometimes needed to be patient with Kenma. If he hadn’t outright refused, then that meant Kuroo still had a chance. 

“When I was younger, my parents got me a private trainer.” Kuroo’s back straightened at Kenma’s words. Kenma wasn’t looking at him, but instead his eyes were cast off to the side in thought. “My family was… well-off enough, but they wanted the protection that would’ve come of me becoming a knight.”

Kuroo couldn’t stop the surprise from flashing across his face, and instead of looking insulted, Kenma just huffed out a laugh.

“Yes, I was even less athletically inclined then than I am now,” Kenma continued, looking almost fond. “So they hired me a trainer. He was apparently quite a big deal, and was known for turning boys into knights. Unfortunately, I had quite the skill for sneaking away from my lessons. I would simply run off before anyone could find me, and hide away for the whole day.”

“But, for whatever reason, knife throwing caught my attention,” and then Kenma slid a knife seemingly out of nowhere on the table. Kuroo tried not to let his eyes widen too much. “I think it’s because it was taught to me as a game. Get as many targets as I can and I win. I ended up practicing for the fun of it, even when my instructor wasn’t there, and I became quite good at it.”

Kenma stopped speaking then, and Kuroo tried not to fidget too much in his seat. Surely, that wasn’t where Kenma expected to leave the story. But it seemed it was as Kenma pulled his feet up on the chair he was sitting, and tried reaching for another document.

“Well?” Kuroo pressed, looking expectantly at Kenma. Kenma just gave him a blank look, and Kuroo groaned. “Well, you never became a knight.”

“Obviously,” Kenma said with a downward tilt to his chin. 

“Well, then what happened?” 

Kenma clicked his tongue. 

“My parents were killed on the king's orders for crimes they didn’t commit, I was taken in as a ward of the castle, and my instructor became my mentor in war strategy. He was executed two years after I moved here, and I was passed along until I became of age.”

Kenma recited the information as if he’d done it countless times before. His face was blank, his tone was flat, and he didn’t even blink once. 

Still, Kuroo caught the tail ends of bitterness that lingered on his words. It was impossible for him not to. Tragedy recognized tragedy, after all. And knowing what he did know of loss, Kuroo knew there were no words that could ever dull the ache.

He had to say something though, if only to show that he understood. 

“I’m sorry for all you’ve lost.” Kuroo titled his head, seeking out Kenma’s gaze, but the man was staring resolutely at the grain of the wood.

“I’m surprised I have as few losses as I have,” Kenma confessed bitterly. “Gods know there are many who have it quite worse.”

“I’m not all that surprised, you’re a brilliant strategist and you’ve made it quite known,” Kuroo said easily. It wasn’t flattery or exaggeration. Kuroo himself had probably lasted as long as he did in part because he knew this about Kenma, and never dared to underestimate him. That being said… “It’s a bit strange though,” Kuroo added, his head tilting just a bit. “You try so hard for this position, yet you claim not to care for anything.” 

Kenma ungracefully snorted. “I care much for staying alive.”

“Is that all?”

“Is that not enough?” Kenma shot right back at Kuroo. He looked frustrated, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and it bothered Kuroo. “In the world we live in, is it not enough that all I want is to stay alive?”

“Well, what if we didn’t live in this world?” Kuroo pressed, ignoring the fact he was likely to irritate Kenma further. “What would you want if your life was a given?”

Kenma's mouth opened, just barely, before he darted his gaze away from Kuroo. 

“I’ve never had the luxury to ponder about that,” Kenma replied stiffly. Before Kuroo could call him out on his obvious lie, Kenma continued, “You seem to have given it some thought, though.”

Kuroo paused. “Pardon?”

“In a world where things were different,” Kenma started slowly before he dragged his eyes back to Kuroo. “If you could have anything, what would you want?”

Kenma’s words were said blankly, but without any teasing or provocation. Kuroo had learned to differentiate the tone’s Kenma used when he was trying to rile Kuroo up, and when he was genuinely asking a question. This tone was the latter.

And yet the question managed to burn something fierce in Kuroo. The feeling started deep in his chest and rose until his skin seemed to itch with it.

What would he want, if he could have it?

“Lots of things,” Kuroo breathed roughly, before clearing his throat. He tapped his fingers to a tuneless melody, trying to rid himself of the feeling burning just under his skin, and choppily added, “My friends’ happiness would be important, though.”

And while he wasn’t lying, Kuroo knew that the answer was a shallow one.

Kenma hummed, and only responded with a single word.

“Cute.”

And this was a tone of Kenma’s that Kuroo loathed.

But the two were having a peaceful night - he even got Kenma to reveal some parts of his past to him. Kuroo wasn’t going to ruin it by picking a fight that Kenma started.

But the word lingered in his mind, even as the night ended and they parted ways, even as Kuroo did his daily duties as Captain of the Guard, even as the night passed on an evening where he and Kenma weren’t due to meet. Through all that time, Kuroo couldn’t stop thinking about Kenma calling his ideals cute in that condescending tone of his.

It made the heat in his chest burn a little hotter.

And it made it impossible for Kuroo not to bring it up the next time they met to research the king’s plans.

“What did you mean by cute?”

Kuroo was sitting across from Kenma, as per usual, his chin resting on his fist, and the book he’d just finished reading pushed to the side. He hadn’t found anything of use to them, and he knew the question would continue to bother him unless he addressed it. 

Kenma looked up at Kuroo, his head tilting in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

Ignoring the fact that Kenma looked almost endearing, Kuroo continued, “The other night, when I said I would want my friend’s happiness. What was cute about that?”

Understanding flickered in Kenma’s eyes, and he dropped his gaze back to the scroll he was taking notes on. “Ah. Why didn’t you bring this up before?”

“Because I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you have to say,” Kuroo said ruefully, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. 

Kenma kept writing, but his pace did slow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Gods, Kenma, the other night we were having a nice time and I didn’t want to…” Kuroo just waved his hand in lieu of finishing his sentence. Kenma’s quirked lip did not miss his notice.

“So, you don’t mind ruining the nice time we’re having now--”

“Would you just answer the question?” Kuroo interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Kenma hummed. Kuroo watched as he continued to scratch notes onto the parchment in front of him, and wondered if he should just let the topic drop, before Kenma spoke up.

“I mean, wanting your friends’ wellbeing isn’t anything novel for you,” Kenma said matter-of-factly. “Regardless of the state of the world, you strive towards that goal.” 

“And that’s cute,” Kuroo summed up flatly. He was trying not to let his impatience show, but he saw the way Kenma’s eyes flickered to where Kuroo was tapping his finger against his arm.

“You’re irritated,” Kenma said with a sigh.

“Of course I’m irritated,” Kuroo replied. “You think I’m some naive little--”

“That’s not what I said--”

“Do you think you’re so much better?” Kuroo continued on, arms uncrossing as he rested his elbows against the table. “You don’t care about anyone’s life but your own, and don’t pretend like anything other than that is true.”

Kenma said nothing, only stared at the table between.

“Your selfishness is nothing to boast about,” Kuroo continued, his voice low.

“As if you're any less selfish,” Kenma muttered.

“And now what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You go out of your way to ensure the lives of Yaku and Kai and King Bokuto,” and Kuroo pursed his lips at the final person, “But what about others who may die at the hand of our king? Young scribes like Shibayama, knights under your command, astronomers and strategists alike, kings of _other_ kingdoms.”

Kuroo furrowed his brow. “Come now, that isn’t fair, I can’t--”

“You can’t save them all,” Kenma finished for him. “So you save the ones that matter to you. Not the ones that matter for the greater good, or matter for the kingdom. To you.” Kenma flicked his eyes back up at Kuroo. “That’s selfish.”

Kuroo pressed his lips in a thin line. Maybe there were others in the land that mattered more than his friends in the grand scheme of things, but they were plenty important themselves. Yes, there were soldiers trained to replace Yaku and Kai if needed, and yes, if conquered, King Daishou would likely rule the citizens of Fukurodani as justly as he ruled his own as long as they didn’t protest his dethroning of Bokuto, but...

“...Fine, perhaps it is.” Maybe he did only protect those closest to him. Maybe it was selfish and wrong and cowardly. 

“But,” Kuroo stressed, leaning imploringly towards Kenma. “Is there really any harm to that? Unless I can magically change our kingdom, all lives will continue to be at stake. Is it so bad that I try to do what I can for the people I care about?”

Kenma finally stopped writing. He placed his pen down, folded his arms in front of him, and leveled Kuroo with a stare so searching he swore Kenma was looking into the deepest corners of his soul.

“Say something were to happen to them.” Kuroo straightened, shackles already rising, before Kenma raised a placating hand. “That wasn’t a threat, I swear it. Just imagine it though. Imagine something bad - something truly awful - happening to one of the people you cared about. What would you do?”

Kuroo sighed, but did what Kenma asked. He imagined Yaku or Kai executed at the hands of King Nakashima. Imagined Bokuto beheaded as Daishou took Fukurodani for himself.

Kuroo swallowed, his chest beginning to feel tight. It was horrible to picture, and yet all Kuroo could think about was where he must’ve gone wrong. His conspiracy must’ve gotten to the king. He took too long trying to convince Nakashima to move. He let distractions and silly thoughts keep him from saving the people he cared about most.

He had all the power in the world to protect them, and he let it slip right through his fingers.

“Kuro.”

Kuroo inhaled sharply, coming back to himself. Kenma was leaning halfway across the table, the look on his face shadowed with obvious concern.

Between them Kenma’s hand hovered, just centimeters away from Kuroo’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo murmured, eyes flickering between Kenma’s hand and Kenma’s face.

Kenma’s face reset itself immediately, his body falling back on his chair and hand falling back to his side like they had been there all along.

“You’ll blame yourself for any of their deaths, regardless of the circumstance,” Kenma said quietly, pulling open another book from the pile. “Plenty a great man has been driven to death obsessing over the ‘What could have beens’.”

And Kuroo normally would take the statement as is. But before, he didn’t have the image of Kenma’s face with concern written all over it, inches away from his own, ingrained into his brain. Before he didn’t have Kenma’s voice noting astrologers and strategists replaying over and over. Before he didn’t know Kenma could reach across a table, almost as if he intended to assure or even comfort Kuroo. 

“But you care too,” Kuroo said, the words almost tumbling out his mouth. Kenma stilled for a beat, and it was all Kuroo needed. “For all your talk, you care about the people in your life just as I care for the people in mine. You care for Yamamoto, and Fukunaga, and I’ll even dare to say--”

“Kuro.”

“Exactly--”

“No, Kuro, look,” Kenma repeated, more insistently this time, and it was then Kuroo noticed that the man had actually been reading the book he’d opened.

Kenma was looking at the text with wide eyes, and once he realized Kuroo had stopped speaking, he turned the book so Kuroo could look over too.

“The Teppei family has long ties to alchemy,” Kenma said, dragging his fingers along the words as he spoke. “Generations ago, they were leading figures, and were commonly known for their unsuccessful ventures into--”

“Necromancy,” Kuroo finished. Kenma just nodded.

“That’s what he’s after,” Kuroo said as he looked at Kenma, but Kenma was still staring at the book. “He wants to raise the dead. Hell, I bet the man wants an undead army.”

“And he needs a sacrifice,” Kenma added, pulling a book from the pile on rituals for the full moon.

“And he needs a tool.” Kuroo grabbed a book himself, this one on stones and their uses in alchemy. 

“And we have twelve days.” Kenma looked up at Kuroo, and the tiny smirk on his face made Kuroo’s spine tingle. 

Kuroo smirked back. 

“Plenty of time.”

_12 Days_

Kuroo hummed a melody to himself as he made his way to the war room with Kai and Yaku at his sides. They didn’t have any pressing plans — simply needed to go over the current training regime for the knights — so Kuroo didn’t feel particularly stressed about the meeting. 

He didn’t feel particularly stressed about a lot of things really.

His meetings with King Nakashima were carefully crafted now, so he and Kenma just took turns bringing up good points to keep the King conflicted about who to listen to. There was a wedding in Nohebi in a few days' time that Kuroo had been approved to be on the traveling party for, which meant drinking and dining with friends. And he was absolutely positive that he and Kenma were going to figure out the King’s plans and put a stop to any of his schemes.

Kuroo drummed his fingers against the outside of his thigh. It was nice to be worry free for a little while. 

His positive demeanor apparently did not go unnoticed. 

“You sure seem chipper,” Yaku said as he looked at Kuroo from the corner of his eye. 

Kuroo stopped his humming, eyebrows rising at the observation. 

“Do I?” Kuroo asked, looking down at himself as if that would reveal the answer. He wouldn’t call himself chipper. Yes, he was less stressed but he didn’t think he was acting all that different. Perhaps a little light on his feet, a song or two stuck in his head, but he didn’t think it was all that different than usual.

“I was under the impression you’d been given some good news,” Kai added, though he didn’t look upset at all. “It’s nice to see you so happy, Captain.”

Kuroo blinked, touched, but still a little confused. “Thank you, but I’m still not sure what you’re referring to.”

“You’ve got a hop in your step everywhere you go,” Yaku started, counting off on his fingers as he spoke.

“You stopped to smell the flowers on our way to the stables,” Kai continued, not even faltering in his steps.

“You’re lost in thought half the day with a dumb smile on your face,” and Yaku actually made a face of disgust as he said this.

“You…” Kai trailed off, and Kuroo turned to look at the man. He looked conflicted for all of one moment, before sharing a look with Yaku, and turning back to Kuroo. “You don’t complain about Kenma as much as you used to.”

Kuroo nearly stumbled on his next step.

“I- what?” Kuroo stammered, keeping his eyes away from both Kai and Yaku. His heart was pounding in his chest, and it took everything in him not to immediately panic.

Kai and Yaku could not know about the meetings or conspiracy or King Nakashima’s plan. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them. If they had any suspicions, he had to throw them off his trail.

“Kozume Kenma,” Yaku said dryly. “Ring any bells? Chief Strategist, blonde hair, man you couldn’t go a day without complaining about?”

“I could go a day without talking about him!” Kuroo exclaimed immediately. Both Kai and Yaku looked dubiously at him, and Kuroo felt his cheeks rush with heat. “So what if I don’t talk about him as much,” Kuroo continued more calmly, before shooting a nasty look at Yaku. “Weren’t _you_ the one who complained that I talked about him too much?”

“It’s just strange is all,” Kai said placatingly, smiling easily at Kuroo. “With your meetings with the King, you don’t see him any less; and yet, you haven’t said anything negative about him in almost a week.”

Kuroo frowned, not sure if he should be more worried about the fact he’d let his amiability towards Kenma slip or the fact that he apparently talked about Kenma so much before. 

Either way, he had to do some damage control. 

Kuroo opened his mouth, ready to critique Kenma, but found himself at a loss for words. He tried pulling to mind all the things that usually bothered him about Kenma, but instead of anger or frustration there was fondness and understanding. It wasn’t as if Kenma himself had changed. He was still quiet, sharp, observant, lazy, and witty as all hell. It was just that none of that bothered Kuroo like it used to.

Huh. How strange.

And a large problem given the circumstances. 

“There are plenty of awful things about Kenma,” Kuroo said, waving his hand as he tried stalling for time. He let his mind wander to the night before, and nearly snapped his fingers in victory. “Like the way he drums his fingers against a table while he reads. Or sometimes, when he’s really focused, he’ll just dig his nails into the wood…”

Kuroo trailed off, remembering the indents left by Kenma’s nails in the table. The marks hadn’t been remarkably deep, but they’d been just enough for Kuroo’s eyes to catch them as he stood to leave that night.

He’d woken up thinking about the indents as well.

Kuroo paused, realizing Kai and Yaku had stopped walking for some time. Turning around to face them, he was completely unprepared for their reactions.

Kai was doing a poor job of concealing his laughter, the usual serene expression on his face ruined by his shaking shoulders and pursed lips. Yaku looked as if he had eaten something particularly sour.

“I never want to see that look on your face ever again,” Yaku said, looking at Kuroo as if the man had personally offended his entire family line.

“I’m just grateful things are progressing between you and Kenma,” Kai struggled to get out as his chuckles petered out. 

They both finally started walking again, but Kuroo’s brain still hadn’t quite caught up to the conversation.

“What are you two going on about?” Kuroo asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. His friends shared a look, but instead of answering, simply opened the doors to the war room.

As if Kuroo would give up so easily.

“You know I’m technically your senior,” Kuroo cajoled, draping his arms over both of their shoulders. “I can just order you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“And I can order you to jump from the highest ledge of the castle,” Yaku replied with a roll of his eyes. “Doesn’t mean anything is going to come of it.”

Kuroo pouted, ready to lecture about respect and chain of command and all of the things he knew Yaku didn’t care about, when Kai interrupted them.

“Why is the map of the Sendai region pulled out?”

Kuroo looked over to where Kai was standing and titled his head as he made his way to the table in the center of the room. The map was indeed pulled out, and there were markings made all over it - but most especially around Karasuno and Seijoh.

“What’s this over here?” Kuroo murmured, running his fingers over an area that was circled in red. It was a crossroads just past the Kingdom of Seijoh that led to all the other kingdoms in Sendai.

“Ah, the Flightless Bird Pass,” Kai said, nodding his head in understanding. “It used to belong to no kingdom until Karasuno recently claimed it for themselves. Now, no one can get past it without their approval.”

“I thought passage into Sendai was only regulated by Seijoh,” Yaku said with a furrowed brow. 

“Passage through the mountains is regulated by Seijoh,” Kuroo said lowly, anger bubbling in his chest as everything began to become clear. “Passage to the rest of the west is regulated by Karasuno, apparently.”

Yaku and Kai glanced at each in worry at Kuroo’s tone, not that the man noticed.

“How recent was this change?” Yaku asked. 

“Very recent. No longer than a year ago.”

“And did Seijoh like the change?” Kuroo demanded, eyes fierce as they bore into Kai.

The man didn’t flinch, but he did sigh reluctantly. “They did not.”

Of course they didn’t. It all made sense now. 

Daichi and Oikawa’s whispering during the ball. 

The new power Karasuno seemed to gain out of nowhere.

The little knight from Karasuno.

Kenma’s insistence for marching on Aoba Johsai. 

Kuroo’s fist clenched tightly. The brat was no better than him! There he was, pretending to have the moral high ground, talking down to Kuroo constantly, when he was doing the exact same thing. 

“Kuroo,” Kai said tentatively, pulling Kuroo from his thoughts. “Should we discuss regime changes now?”

Kuroo exhaled heavily. He couldn’t think about this now. He had duties and responsibilities and even if Kenma was one to shirk off all of that, Kuroo refused.

“Right,” Kuroo said, looking up at his men and refusing to look back down at the map that was just taunting him. 

Except try as he might, he could not get the thought of Kenma hiding his true reason for wanting to march on Seijoh out of his head. Had Kenma thought he couldn’t trust Kuroo? No, that couldn’t be. Kenma knew Kuroo was going the exact same thing, so there was no reason to not trust him. 

Was he somehow planning on betraying Kuroo to the king? 

The thought settled uncomfortable in his chest, prickling until something like bile rose in his throat. That would mean his death. Kuroo didn’t want to believe that. He and Kenma had grown closer, had bonded, had…

Despite what he had hidden, Kuroo didn’t want to think so lowly of Kenma.

Maybe Kenma was just using Kuroo. Maybe, after all was said and done with the King, he intended on using their...camaraderie to convince Kuroo to march on Seijoh. 

That plan would certainly make a fool out of Kuroo, and that was definitely more Kenma’s style.

And to think he’d begun thinking Kenma had the capacity to care and worry. To think he’d begun to think of them as something closer than colleagues, but partners against the King’s plans.

So much for that. 

Kuroo stewed in his anger for the rest of the day, ignoring the looks of worry his friends and colleagues sent his way. 

Kuroo had never been known for his tact. He knew how to rile up even the most temperate of delegates, thanks in large part for his disregard for rubbing someone the wrong way. So there was little to stop him from throwing the doors to his and Kenma’s meeting place that night with all the fury he was right in feeling.

Kenma didn’t even flinch. “Good evening - ”

“You must think yourself so clever,” Kuroo practically hissed, interrupting Kenma before he could finish his greeting. Kenma paused at his place at the desk, almost looking shocked at the vitriol in Kuroo’s tone; but only after half a second, his face was back to its usual blank expression.

And frankly Kuroo was sick of it. Sick of how collected and cold Kenma could be while he himself was always a maelstrom of feelings around him. Sick of how he never seemed bothered by anything Kuroo did, never seemed to think about Kuroo as much as he thought about Kenma.

“What have I done this time?” Kenma asked with a bored sigh. His gaze returned back to the document in front of him, and Kuroo had the sudden urge to snatch it from the desk so Kenma was forced to look at him and only him.

“You’ve been a hypocrite this whole time, lecturing me about wanting to protect Fukurodani when you’re trying to do the exact same thing.” Kuroo locked the door behind him. He did this every time they met, but for whatever reason the click the lock made seemed louder than usual. Louder even than the blood pounding in Kuroo’s veins.

“Kuro, I haven’t a clue as to what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m talking about Karasuno.” 

To his credit, Kenma continued writing. “And what about Karasuno?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Kuroo said crossing the room until he stopped just a meter away from where Kenma was still sitting. “I saw the maps in the war room. Maps with the Flightless Bird Pass marked in red.”

Kenma’s head shot up as he practically dropped his pen. Kuroo felt a sick combination of pride and fury rise within him. “What?”

“So now you know what I’m talking about,” Kuroo said with a sneer, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Those maps were meant to be burned,” Kenma said, more to himself than anything else, and Kuroo laughed, the sound brittle and lacking any humor.

“Well, they weren’t.” Kuroo felt almost pleased as he watched Kenma’s fist clench from it’s place on top of the table. “What, upset that your plan to protect your little friend got found out?”

Kenma took a long steady breath, and slowly uncurled his fist. “I think you’re making assumptions.” Kenma’s gaze remained trained on his paper as he spoke, but Kuroo caught the way his shoulders remained tensed. “You think you know something, but you’re jumping to conclusions as you’re prone to doing.”

“So you don’t want to march on Aoba Johsai because of the threat they pose to Karasuno?” A beat of silence passed, and Kuroo scoffed, loud and bitter. “You claim to be above all sentimentalities, but in reality the only reason you want to march on Aoba Johsai is for the sake of the knight Hinata.”

And Kuroo was familiar with his anger. It was the same anger he’d felt countless times towards Kenma for his selfishness and frigidity and constant need to hold everyone at a distance. But there was also a second feeling lingering under it. It was a little more resentful, a little more ugly, a little more personal than what he was used to. 

It heated him up from his core to the tips of his hairs, and Kuroo was nearly dizzy with the intensity. It didn’t simply feel like righteous anger at Kenma’s betrayal. It stung deeper than that.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Kenma slowly turned in his seat to face Kuroo. Kuroo was almost used to the shivers caused by making eye contact with Kenma. They never went away fully, regardless of the fact that Kenma looked at him more and more in these late night meetings, but they’d become so second nature that Kuroo had stopped paying them much mind.

Now, there was no way for him to do anything but focus on the way the shivers violently shook through his whole body. He couldn’t place if it was the anger or the accusation, but he’d never felt so seen by Kenma before. 

And he just kept staring. Kuroo wanted to open his mouth, demand that Kenma stop looking at him and give him a damn explanation for everything but his tongue felt too large and heavy in his mouth. The tension in the air was suffocating and Kuroo needed to _do_ something. He wasn’t sure what, but his blood was buzzing and Kenma was right in front of him and Kuroo simply couldn’t stand to be caught in his piercing gaze for a moment further. 

He inhaled, ready to speak or move or act in anyway, before Kenma’s voice caught him off.

“You’re right in that I want to go after Aoba Johsai for my own selfish reasons.” 

Kuroo swallowed and looked down. The words confirmed that he was right, and yet he didn't find any satisfaction in that. Just a dull stabbing in his chest. 

The sound of a chair scraping the floor rang throughout the room, and Kuroo whipped his head up to see Kenma standing, paper clenched in one hand and his eyes still trained on Kuroo. “But you misunderstand.”

Kenma took a couple steps until he was just an arm’s reach away from him, and Kuroo felt the tension in his chest tighten. “I’m not doing it to protect Karasuno.” He said the word protect like it was something dirty, and Kuroo didn’t know what to make of the way his tone made his mouth go dry. “I’m doing it because I want to be the one to clip their wings myself.”

All air left Kuroo’s lungs at once. He stared at Kenma, mind still grappling with this new information - with whether or not he even believed it - but before he could even begin to think of a response, Kenma was already moving. He pressed the piece of paper in his hands against Kuroo’s chest with just the tips of his fingers, and Kuroo’s own hands clenched at his sides.

“The king is going to kill one of us for the sacrifice,” Kenma said impassively, staring at Kuroo’s chest. “He’s going to choose one of our plans, and the loser is going to get his heart out carved from his chest.” Kenma’s eyes flicked down to Kuroo’s chest before rising up to meet Kuroo’s again, and Kuroo swallowed roughly. “I found the information in the book you recommended the other night.”

Kenma pulled his hand away, and made his way past Kuroo. Their shoulder’s brushed, and Kuroo felt his arm reach up to halt him before he froze.

Why should he stop him? What good would that even do?

The door opened and closed before Kuroo could come up with an answer for either of those questions.

_7 Days_

The silence in the carriage had been eating at Kuroo for the duration of the journey.

King Nakashima had fallen asleep once they passed the palace gates, and Kenma hadn’t said more than ten words since stepping in the cart intended for Nohebi that morning. Not that the silence was much different from these past several days.

He and Kenma still met but their nights were full of stilted words and stiff body language. Kenma rarely ever said anything, only handing Kuroo his notes before heading to bed. 

The worst part was he wasn’t sure whose responsibility it was to speak up first. It was laughable to imagine Kenma saying anything, but Kuroo had his pride to consider. He may have been wrong in some aspects, but he was right about Kenma having a larger plan. Had been right about it for weeks now. 

On the other hand, it had perhaps not been the wisest for Kuroo to storm into the room and begin throwing accusations out. He’d been angry at the time, embarrassed in the immediate aftermath, but now, after days had passed, he felt guilty—and admittedly a little lonely. He hadn’t realized how much he’d enjoyed the late night bickering until it was suddenly gone.

But he had been _right_. He just wasn’t sure how much being right counted for anymore. 

“This wedding will be an astute opportunity to see the financial status of Nohebi.” Kuroo jolted at the sound of the King’s voice, and he straightened in his seat. He hadn’t even realized the man had woken up. King Nakashima was staring pointedly at Kuroo, and he cleared his throat before nodding hastily. 

“I agree.” He lowered his head as much as he could from his seat, both to show respect and to avoid the King’s gaze. “Prince Daishou’s marriage is a much anticipated one - if it’s not up to standards we’ll know that the kingdom’s budget is stretched.”

“Interesting that you agree, yet it wasn’t the first thing out of your mouth when you found out about our invitation to the affair.” Kuroo felt himself pale at the cold tone of the King’s voice, but he continued before Kuroo could think of a proper response.

However, now he turned to Kenma. “And you, boy.” Kuroo scowled on Kenma’s behalf, grateful he still had his head ducked. “You haven’t said a word about how suspicious it is for them to invite Nekoma despite us not inviting them to our celebration ball just a few weeks ago.”

Kuroo blinked. Had that really just been weeks ago? He felt like a lifetime had passed since walking with Kenma in a room of dancing people. He felt like he’d changed enough to encompass a lifetime, at least. 

“Neither of you have been up to your usual standard.” Kuroo looked up in time to see the King glance between the two of them before narrowing his eyes. “I intend to make my first move in a week’s time, and yet you both ask as if it’s some game. If you don’t fully grasp the stakes of this decision, maybe the corpses of your men will make it clearer.”

The image of Kai and Yaku bruised and beaten flashed through Kuroo’s mind, and he reacted immediately. “The choice lies with you, your Majesty. We’ve given you our stances and reasons at nauseum.”

“I should have your tongue removed for that comment,” King Nakashima said darkly. Kuroo didn’t even flinch, and the King frowned deeply. “Actually, I might as well do it anyway. It’s not like you’ve been using it for anything worthwhile lately. Then again, why stop at your tongue-- ”

The carriage halted then, causing the cart to rock and interrupting the King before he could finish. Not that it mattered. He’d said enough for them to all hear the warning.

King Nakashima let his eyes linger on him and Kenma before he opened the door to the carriage. Kuroo could hear the announcement of their arrival, but it was faint over the sound of his drumming heart. Who knew how much further he could test the King’s patience?

Kenma shifted then, and Kuroo watched as he followed after the King without so much as a glance back. Kuroo huffed, but followed him out onto the ground of the palace. 

Nohebi was cooler in temperature than Nekoma, though not as frigid as Fukurodani. Kuroo would appreciate the weather had the royal court not been so slimy. Though given that, he was not surprised in the least to see the King speaking jovially with the Queen. 

He moved to enter the castle, but was stopped by a sharp tug to his sleeve. He looked down to see Kenma discreetly tilting his head towards the gardens before slowly making his way for them as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Kuroo wanted to follow immediately after him, but he knew better. He waited, helping the servants unload the carriages, and once the King had moved to continue his chat inside the castle, he went down the path Kenma had disappeared down. 

He found him sitting at the center of it all by a large fountain so intricate the sound of running water would cover up any conversation. Clever.

“How did you know this was here?” Kuroo asked as he stepped to Kenma’s side and surveyed the area around them to ensure they were alone. They both stood facing the fountain, and Kuroo wished he could instead stand in a way that would allow him to see Kenma’s face. 

“I’ve visited Nohebi before.” Kuroo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Kenma waved his hand dismissively. “This isn’t about that. This is about your reckless behavior in the carriage.”

It was silly by all definitions of the word, but Kuroo felt a little jolt of joy that Kenma was speaking with him—even if it was just to chastise him.

“If the King wanted to have my tongue cut from my mouth, he’d have done it ages ago.” Kuroo drawled. Kenma needn’t know the terror that had run through him at the threat. “But it is touching that you’re concerned.”

“Be serious.” Kenma snapped. The water was falling a bit too loudly, but he almost actually sounded worried. Kuroo chanced a glance at him from the corner of his eye, but his hair obscured him from view. “What you did was foolish. Foolish and stupid.”

“Just because you don’t understand why I did that does not mean it’s stupid.” Regardless of the fear he’d felt, Kuroo would do it countless times if that meant he could protect his friends.

“No, I understand exactly what you did.” Kenma turned his head, not enough to look right at Kuroo, but enough that Kuroo was able to catch the expression on his face. More specifically, the small frown on his face. “I understand that you angered the King so that he would be too angry at you to remember to be angry at our peers.”

Kuroo assessed Kenma in shock - and it was a wonder that his perceptiveness still came as a shock to him anymore - before shrugging unapologetically. “Then if you understand, you know I’d do it again.”

“Why would you do something so reckless again?”

“Sometimes calculated risks are necessary.” Kuroo looked down at the top of Kenma’s head with a small twist of his lips. Everything about Kenma felt like a calculated risk, after all.

“Oh, what a lovely surprise.”

Kuroo tensed at the sudden intrusion, but was sure to keep his movement natural as he turned to face Prince Daishou. From his peripheral, he saw Kenma do the same thing. 

“Your Highness,” Kuroo said with a small bow. Daishou hummed as he languidly made his way closer, eyeing the fountain behind them.

“Interesting spot for a chat.”

“Kenma was just showing me the scenery,” Kuroo said easily, grateful that Kenma had at least shared that with him before he’d begun lecturing him. “This is my first time visiting Nohebi, and I wanted to see the sights.”

“Why, Kenma, it’s been so long since your last visit I’m surprised you remember anything about our castle.” Daishou smiled at Kenma, before his gaze flickered between him and Kuroo. “Though not as surprised as I am to see you two side by side. Rumor had it that you were constantly at each other’s throat.”

“Well, there’s a rumor for everything these days, Your Highness.” Kenma said smoothly. “If you listen to all of them, you’d never have room in your head for a thought of your own.”

Kuroo had to keep his face from visibly lighting up as Daishou scowled at Kenma. For as much as he loathed all the times he’d been on the receiving end of Kenma’s wit, he absolutely adored it when it was used against someone else.

“I’ve still got more to show the Captain, so we’ll be taking our leave now.” Kenma bowed quickly, and Kuroo followed after him as he led him away from the fountain. He shot Daishou a smug grin before they departed, and it remained on his face until they made their way into the castle. 

“Wipe that look off your face,” Kenma said with a roll of his eyes. “Feel free to explore if you want - I’m retiring to my room for the evening.”

“What about my tour?” Kuroo complained with an exaggerated pout.

Kenma squinted his eyes at him. "That was a lie you made yourself, I promised you nothing.”

And Kuroo knew that. That didn’t mean he hadn’t wanted it to be true.

He sighed heavily and considered roaming the castle himself. Or maybe he could find someone to accompany him. Nekoma had been granted a large party, so there were plenty of people to choose from.

Still, none of them seemed as appealing.

“Kuro.” Kuroo blinked his thoughts a way, and looked down to see Kenma staring at his chest. “No matter how calculated, any risk taken with the King is never worth it. You shouldn’t try it again.”

Kuroo furrowed his brow, unsure how to feel at Kenma’s words. It seemed like a warning born of concern, but he also sounded like he was still talking down to Kuroo. Kenma lingered a moment more before saying a quiet good night, and leaving Kuroo standing alone.

Unfortunately, his words consumed his mind so much that Kuroo barely had the time to miss him. 

Because wasn't a calculated risk exactly what they were attempting to do?

It was hard for Kuroo to pay attention to the splendor of the ceremony, the vulnerability of the wedding vows, the rich gowns and suits everyone around him was wearing while he contemplated just how risky what he and Kenma were doing.

It was easy to forget in the moonlight, tucked away with only each other as company. It was much more difficult to forget now, a week away from their deadline. 

By the time he was sitting in his seat for the wedding reception, Kuroo felt like he’d missed most of the day.

“Captain, did you want a drink?”

Kuroo blinked rapidly at the question before he looked to his side where Fukunaga was sitting. He stared at the astronomer for a moment and then finally noticed the servant holding a tray of glasses.

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Kuroo said choppily as he reached to grab what looked like the fullest cup. The servant bowed, and Kuroo was left back to his thoughts. Except now, he was aware of the way Fukunaga was staring at him from the corner of his eye. Kuroo did his best not to fidget.

Kuroo had no idea who came up with the seating for the reception. It was likely Nohebi, but usually the visiting kingdom was given some preference for their seating arrangements. 

However, Kuroo was sitting at a long table with near strangers all around him and Fukunaga at his right. He tried not to slump too much in his seat, but he wished the night would hurry along more quickly. They’d all already been served dinner, and now they were simply waiting for the cue from the band for everyone to get up and begin dancing and socializing and what have you. 

Kuroo would take anything at this point to pull his mind from the coursing river of doubts and worries.

“I apologize if I’m speaking above my station,” and Kuroo found his gaze instinctively flickering to where Fukunaga was looking at him with a furrow of his brow, “But is something… troubling you, Captain?”

Kuroo pursed his lips. It was evidently obvious that something was bothering him - denying would just incriminate him more. But there was no way he could tell Fukunaga about anything he and Kenma have been dealing with. 

And as soon as he thought of the man was Kenma within his sights. He was seated much further down the long table, Lev at his side, and staring at the plate in front of him with a murderous expression.

Kuroo felt his lip quirk up at the sight. Kenma’s expressions were truly some of his favorites.

“Oh,” Fukunaga said, drawing the sound out. Kuroo looked back to the man, and Fukunaga was already nodding in understanding. “This has to do with Kenma.”

There was something about the way Fukunaga said it, knowing and sympathetic at the same time, that made Kuroo’s stomach twist uncomfortably. For whatever reason, this felt even more dangerous to talk about than the conspiracy.

Kuroo resisted the urge to shake his head. He was being ridiculous. 

“Have you spoken to the Chief recently?” Kuroo asked before taking a sip of his drink. The more he could get Fukunaga talking - and the less he could subsequently get away with talking - the better.

“Ah, not quite,” Fukunaga said, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “Kenma is rather cross with me at the moment. Yamamoto as well.”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows. Seemed like Kenma’s foul mood was affecting everyone. “What did _you_ do to piss him off?”

“We may have left the task of...getting rid of some sensitive materials to an overly forgetful knight-in-training,” Fukunaga said guiltily, and Kuroo immediately knew he was speaking of the maps.

That actually made quite a bit of sense. Kenma was always careful to keep his cards hidden, and a blunder as large as leaving marked maps in the war room was not like him.

It was entirely like Lev.

Still, that Kenma was so angry that Kuroo found out about his plans that he snapped at his only observable friends got under Kuroo’s skin.

“Is it so big an issue that he won’t even speak with you?” Kuroo said bitterly into his glass. “So what if he couldn’t manage to keep all his schemes hidden. It just means he’s like the rest of us.”

Fukunaga looked at Kuroo, and Kuroo tried not to grimace at his gaze. He was a nice enough man, but at this point Kuroo was pressed to trust anyone who Kenma kept in high regard.

“I’m in the mood for some hors d'oeuvre,” Fukunaga said, rising from his seat. He looked down at Kuroo with a friendly smile. “Would you like to accompany me?”

Kuroo wanted to immediately object, but as he turned to look properly at Fukunaga, he caught Kenma looking over at the two of them. It was brief, their eyes locking for a single moment before Kenma turned back to look at Lev, but it was more than enough for Kuroo.

“I’d love to,” Kuroo said, perhaps a touch too loudly. He stood along sound Fukunaga, uncaring if his chair scraped against the floor, and followed him to the tables of food that lined the room.

Though he’d agreed mostly to irritate Kenma, Kuroo couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing over the wide array of food. King Nakashima had a point about the wedding being a peek into the financial status of Nohebi, and it was clear that no expense had been spared.

It didn’t guarantee that the kingdom was prospering, but it was clear they weren’t anywhere near destitute. 

“Think about the future of Nekoma?” Fukunaga asked cryptically as he moved to grab a plate from the table, and Kuroo pursed his lips. Fukunaga just chuckled. “You’re not being obvious. Kenma just gets a similar look on his face when he’s having thoughts like those.”

“Ah, the one where his forehead creases just so, the left side of his lips pulls down, and he twists at the end of his hair,” Kuroo said nodding in understanding. It was refreshing to speak to someone who was as acquainted with Kenma as he was.

He felt much less refreshed when Fukunaga practically gaped at him. “I simply meant when he furrowed his brows.”

Kuroo cleared his throat, embarrassment rising in his chest, and Fukunaga just laughed good naturedly. He patted Kuroo’s shoulder, shaking his head at him as he added, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s actually good that Kenma’s opening up more.”

Kuroo remembered the secrets Kenma still kept hidden from him, the coldness he’d shown Kuroo the whole trip, the years it took for them to even get this far.

“He’s barely opened up to me at all,” Kuroo said hallowly, admitting to himself that the thought caused a rather insistent ache to bloom in his chest. “Though I can’t say I’ve done much in my favor.”

Fukunaga opened and closed his mouth a few times before slowly walking along the table. Kuroo hesitantly followed after him.

“Kenma pretends to be more above everything than he actually is,” Fukunaga said slowly as he trained his eyes on the small plate in his hand. “Back when he was promoted to Chief Strategist, he used my predictions of the next meteor shower to win us the battle.”

Kuroo nodded impatiently. He knew this already. Kenma’s position had been made secure, and Fukunaga had been promoted in his scholarly rank. Fukunaga looked up at Kuroo knowingly, and he leaned back just a touch. 

“But Kenma didn’t name me until after the battle.” Kuroo blinked. He recalled the memory, one he’d spent more time than he’d like to admit going over, and tried to think if Fukunaga was specifically ever mentioned. But he was right. Kenma never did. “If he would’ve, and I had been wrong, we both would’ve been put to death. In fact, with Kenma’s cunning, I’m sure he could’ve found a way to simply pin the entire incident on me.”

Kuroo remembered the wager. There was no doubt about that.

“But he didn’t.” Fukunaga pressed. “The safest thing for him to do would have been to name me, but he kept me anonymous until after we won, and then was the reason I was promoted.” Fukunaga huffed out a breath before giving a small shrug. “I don’t presume to know everything that goes inside Kenma’s mind. That man goes through a thousand mental acrobatics in a given day. But, Captain,” Fukunaga turned to look imploringly at him, and the first thought that crossed Kuroo’s eyes was how different his eyes were to Kenma’s. “Captain, he cares more than he’d like to admit. More than he’s brave enough to admit.”

“That would be news to me then,” Kuroo said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone. Perhaps Kenma had his own way of showing he cared, but he’d certainly done everything in his power to keep Kuroo at a distance.

“That surprises me.” Kuroo gave Fukunaga a disbelieving look and he shrugged and set down his plate to instead pick up one of the many glasses of plum wine. “Kenma doesn’t try very hard at most things. He tries for his position, but that’s only because his life is at stake. With everything else, he’s wholly uninterested. However,” Fukunaga brought his cup to his lips, but Kuroo still caught the grin on his face. “I don’t think I’ve seen him try harder at anything than to keep you at arm’s length.”

Kuroo face dropped before he could even think to save face. “Does he detest me that much?”

Fukunaga laughed, loud and unexpectedly. “No, if he didn’t like you he’d simply ignore you like he does Lev.” Fukunaga shook his head, and gave Kuroo an expectant look. “He doesn’t do that with you. He pokes and prods and tries to stoke whatever hatred you have already have towards him.”

“I don’t hate him,” Kuroo said with a frown. He’s not sure he ever hated Kenma. Before all this, he ever knew him well enough to hate the man, and now…. Well Kuroo wasn’t sure what he felt, but it certainly wasn’t hatred. 

Fukuanga smiled again. “I don’t doubt that. But it does make you wonder why Kenma was so hellbent on making it so you did when he never put that much effort toward anyone before.”

He took another small sip of his drink, before his eyes caught on something over Kuroo’s shoulder. His smile widened, and he bowed quickly to Kuroo. “Think on what I said, Captain. And good luck.”

Before Kuroo could press Fukunaga for more information, the man slipped away just as the orchestra began playing its music. 

Immediately the room seemed to burst into motion, dresses flourishing and bodies all moving towards the dance floor. Kuroo shook his head, trying to clear it and focus on the night.

He was meant to clear his head, and there was ample opportunity to do so now. 

It was a shame that Bokuto wasn’t invited ― for obvious reasons — and both Karasuno and Aoba Johsai had sent their regards, but neither had sent representatives from the kingdom. Still, Kuroo was always up for meeting new people, and he wasted no more time doing so. 

Asking the first person he could find, Kuroo spent his time on the floor dancing with whoever he could pull along with him. He even managed to convince the quiet Shibayama to join, and somehow topped that by earning a dance with the newly crowned Princess Mika.

“It was an honor, Your Highness,” Kuroo said as he stepped away with a bow, and Kuroo meant it. The princess had been lovely the entire dance, patient with Kuroo as he learned the routine custom to Nohebi, and happy to indulge him in a second round of dancing to prove what he’d learned.

“I’d imagine it was,” a cool voice said from behind him, and Kuroo’s stomach dropped as a cold hand climbed up Kuroo’s back to land on his shoulder.

“Captain Kuroo,” Prince Daishou greeted lowly. Kuroo turned his head stiffly to see Daishou standing just behind him. The man ignored him, looking at his bride with an absolutely besotted look on his face. “Love, would you mind if I borrowed your partner for a moment?”

“Of course not,” Mika said, bowing to excuse herself, but Kuroo still caught the gleam in her eyes.

Ah. So he’d been played.

“You cats are always so good with everyone,” Daishou said as he led Kuroo away from the dancefloor while maintaining his iron grip on Kuroo’s shoulder. “But I know you’re not as sneaky as you think.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Kuroo said, his eyes quickly scanning for the first out he could find.

He wondered if it was fate or chance that caused his gaze to catch onto Kenma.

He was standing against a pillar, watching everyone dance from a healthy distance. As distracted by his own thoughts as he’d been the whole evening, Kuroo hadn’t realized how well-dressed Kenma looked. His clothes were tailored to his figure wonderfully, his shirt skimming his body as it tapered into his fitted pants. He was dressed in mostly black, with dark red accents here and there, but the fine gold of his belt, necklace, and earrings brought out his eyes in a way that were nearly devastating. To top it all off his hair was half up, pulled into a small ponytail as the rest of his hair swayed as he lightly bobbed his head to the music.

Kuroo wanted nothing more than to make his way over to him.

“One would think you’d pay closer attention when a prince was talking to you,” Daishou drawled, finally dropping his hand in lieu of standing by Kuroo’s side. “But I can’t say I don’t understand the temptation.”

Kuroo whipped his head to see Daishou looking at Kenma with a smirk on his face, and unthinkingly snapped, “Watch your tongue.”

“As if you have the privilege of making threats on his behalf.” Daishou scoffed, and Kuroo only gritted his teeth. “Besides, I’m loyal to my wife. A trait I think you have too much of.”

Kuroo refused to budge. “As I said earlier, I’ve no idea what you're implying.”

“Of course you don't,” Daishou said loftily. “I just think it fitting to remind you what making an enemy out of Nohebi means, and if you really think it’s worth it.”

“Enlighten me,” Kuroo deadpanned. The sooner he could get away from the conversation, the better.

“Well, beyond the countless lives and resources wasted on your part,” and truly, Kuroo deserved an award for keeping his composure so well around Daishou, “You’d also be ruining the lives of nearly everyone in the room.” 

Kuroo remained unfazed, careful to keep his expression disinterested, but he couldn’t deny he was curious of Daishou’s angle. Daishou slid around to face Kuroo full on, and the look of his face struck Kuroo. 

It wasn’t the face of a sniveling prince. It was the face of a protective leader.

“The man who sat next to you over dinner,” Daishou began seriously. “The woman whose hand you took to dance. The servant who you thanked for your drink.”

Kuroo swallowed lightly as the faces of each of those people flashed through his mind, and Daishou stepped even closer to whisper in his ear.

“It’s much harder to view us as an enemy when you’ve dined among our friends and family, isn’t it Captain?” 

Something finally clicked into place in Kuroo’s head. Had that been why Nekoma had been invited to the ball? Had Daishou truly been counting on Kuroo’s sentimentalities to get in the way of his duties? 

Had he been right to assume as much?

“Chin up, now dear Kuroo,” Daishou said as he took a single step back from Kuroo. He clapped his hand on his shoulder, and Kuroo muffled a grunt at his strength. Clearly Daishou intended for his words to stick. “This is a celebration after all.”

Kuroo shrugged Daishou off. “Congratulations, again, on your union, Your Highness.”

Daishou looked almost impressed at how even Kuroo kept his tone, but Kuroo wasn’t going to linger to confirm anything. He shouldered past Daishou, and tried not to consider the point the prince had made about the cost of war.

War always had losses, always had casualties, Kuroo wasn’t ignorant to that. Most times he was able to reckon with the bloodshed - he would never lie and say he enjoyed it, but he understood war’s purpose. A kingdom had to put the needs of its own people above anyone else’s and had to provide for these needs however they could.

But if a kingdom wasn’t in need, if a war had no purpose, could Kuroo truly back it? If they managed to stop King Nakashima’s plans, did that ensure the king would no longer want to declare war? Or would it merely make the king’s want for power even greater?

“You look as if you're about to pull the hair from your head,” Kenma’s low voice teased, and it was then that Kuroo realized that his feet had brought him to Kenma’s side. Kuroo blinked down at Kenma, still propped against the column but now with a glass in his hand. 

“I might just,” Kuroo said with a sigh. Kenma huffed, rolling his eyes at Kuroo, and Kuroo felt lighter already. Gently pulling Kenma’s cup away from him, Kuroo smiled at Kenma and asked, “Dance with me?”

He didn’t really expect Kenma to accept. He thought the man would snatch his drink back with frown, would scoff at Kuroo and insult his intelligence, would maybe even say nothing and simply walk away.

So when Kenma merely tilted his head at Kuroo for a moment before saying, “Okay,” Kuroo nearly dropped the cup in his hand in surprise.

“Okay,” Kuroo repeated slowly, unsure if he was trying to confirm Kenma’s statement or clarify if Kenma had actually meant what he said.

Kenma just quirked his lip in amusement at Kuroo. 

Kuroo cleared his throat, placing the cup down on the platter of a passing servant, and extending his hand in invitation to Kenma.

He tried not to stare too long as Kenma slid a gloved hand over his own.

Just barely tightening his hold, Kuroo led Kenma towards the outskirts of the dance floor. Kenma’s shoulders relaxed a little, and Kuroo smiled. 

“You didn’t have to agree,” Kuroo said as he brought their clasped hands to shoulder height, and brought his other hand to rest lightly on Kenma’s waist. “I didn’t really _think_ you’d agree.”

“I know,” Kenma said, sliding his hand to rest on Kuroo’s shoulder. “But a dance is a good way to talk without being overheard.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows shot up in interest. “Oh?”

Kenma hummed, and Kuroo began leading them in a simple waltz. They took a few graceful steps, Kenma following Kuroo with more ease than Kuroo expected, and then Kenma said, “So what were you and Fukunaga talking about earlier?”

Kuroo grinned. So Kenma had been paying attention to him. “Worried?”

“For good reason,” Kenma said with a minute twist of his lips. 

The music swelled then, and Kuroo’s eyes lit up. He knew what part was next. In one smooth movement, Kuroo dropped his hand at Kenma’s waist, raised his other hand above Kenma’s head, spun Kenma in place twice as the music dictated, and then returned him to their starting position without faltering once.

Kenma barely even looked bothered.

“We were talking about all sorts of things,” Kuroo hedged as they came back together. “The wedding vows, the food--”

“Me,” Kenma interrupted flatly. “Perhaps even some maps.”

“Well, now that you’re bringing it up,” Kuroo started, before seamlessly pulling Kenma out of the way some talking noblemen 

“What else is there to discuss in regards to Karasuno?” Kenma said with a sigh, and Kuroo shot him an incredulous look.

“All sorts of things,” Kuroo stressed. “Namely why you’re so set on bringing them down. Have they wronged you in some way?”

Kenma scrunched his nose at him, and Kuroo sighed long sufferingly. “No, you’d never be petty enough for that.”

Kenma said nothing. They danced without speaking for a while, Kuroo trying to figure out Kenma’s angle, and Kenma looking off to the side with an almost distracted look on his face.

“The kingdom of Karasuno is known for their incredible fighting style, but they’re rather reckless,” Kenma finally said, each word said with careful consideration. Kuroo looked down at him, but Kenma still looked lost in thought. “They win so many battles because they don’t care about their defense - why should they when they can beat anyone in terms of offense.” A smile shifted onto Kenma’s face then, a little evil and a lot sadistic, and Kuroo couldn’t get enough of it. “There’s something incredibly satisfying about taking down what seems like an impossible challenge.”

Kuroo turned Kenma’s words over in his mind. Kenma had always been one for games and challenges, so if that’s how he viewed Karasuno it was no wonder he was so invested.

Still…

“Wouldn’t it be better to accomplish something even more impossible?” Kuroo asked, an idea that had been stewing for some time in his head coming together now.

“Like what?” Kenma tilted his head as he spoke, his attention focused solely on Kuroo. 

Kuroo licked his lips. 

“Bringing the kingdoms of the land all together,” Kuroo said tentatively. “Connecting them in some way, and ensuring peace.”

Speaking the words out loud felt even sillier to Kuroo. Never had the kingdoms had any long lasting treaty or arrangement that applied to all of them. They each had their allies, their enemies, and their groups they didn’t think twice of. Trying to bring them all together, regardless of size or power, was as good as a dream.

“It would be a challenge,” Kenma said slowly, and it was then Kuroo realized he was actually considering what he was saying. “Between varying monetary systems and moral codes, it would be a rough transition at first.”

“There would also be more security in peace treaties,” Kuroo replied quickly, excited to have someone to bounce ideas off of. “Families could move between kingdoms with more ease, and more trade would lead to more economic growth.”

“The benefits are all clear on paper,” Kenma conceded, narrowing his eyes in through. “But it would be hard to be the kingdom to lead everyone. And it would be impossible for it to be Nekoma.”

Kuroo frowned. “Why would it be impossible?”

“The king would never agree to it.” 

Kuroo deflated as he realized Kenma was right. He felt even more drained when his conversation with Daishou came flooding back to him.

“Are you alright, Kuro?” Kenma asked delicately, ducking his head to catch Kuroo’s gaze.

“Oh, yes, everything’s fine.” Kuroo smiled his usual placating smile, but Kenma just narrowed his gaze. Without really meaning to, his smile shifted to something smaller, something sadder, and Kuroo added, “It’s nothing really. Nothing for you to worry yourself over.”

“I’m not worried,” Kenma said sharply, and Kuroo just grinned. “But if you want to talk about it… I could lend you my ear.”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows in surprise. It wasn’t like he was unused to simply talking at Kenma - many nights were spent with Kuroo brainstorming out loud while Kenma quietly took in what he said.

But he never really complained about his own troubles before. It felt rather vulnerable, and a little too personal.

Kenma seemed earnest though. 

So Kuroo let himself talk. He talked about Daishou, and how much he loathed the man. Talked about war and hating the meaningless ones. Talked about people, and how justifying death only became harder with every passing day. He talked so much that he wondered if Kenma was even still listening.

But it was evident he was. Kuroo could tell from the way he would hum in thought, the way he would tilt his head just so, the way he would furrow his brow or bite his lip or shift his gaze. Kenma was listening, and quite actively too.

And on top of that, Kenma hadn’t missed a single step. It was rather impressive.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this before, but you’re a rather excellent listener,” Kuroo said as he slowed their steps. 

Kenma matched his new pace easily. 

“That’s quite a lovely compliment,” Kenma replied, eyebrows twitching up in surprise. 

“Why are you so shocked?” Kuroo said as he led Kenma around a duo who were much too drunk to be attempting any sort of dancing. “Is it so surprising I would compliment people I’ve spent time with?”

“Not me. You think me dangerous.”

“I _thought_ you dangerous,” Kuroo corrected. Kenma’s eye snapped up to his, and Kuroo nearly missed the next step of the dance at the shivers he got. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Now, I understand. You’re more of an anxious kitten than anything else.”

Kenma glared viciously at him, and Kuroo laughed loudly. To think he’d once considered Kenma cold and emotionless. 

He couldn’t think of a single person full of more life than him.

“And you’re nothing more than a cat that whines and whines until it gets attention,” Kenma said, tilting his nose away from Kuroo. Kuroo just smirked, and spun Kenma out with one hand, wiping the callous look of his face and replacing it with one of surprise.

“I compliment you and all you have are complaints,” Kuroo teased as he pulled Kenma back into his arms.

Kenma huffed at the hair that fell over his eyes, but still begrudgingly said, “Fine. Thank you. I suppose sometimes you can be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” Kuroo corrected, ready to point out all the many times he’d been nice to Kenma, but Kenma was speaking before he got the chance.

“Well, I’m not,” Kenma said, his voice dipping low into a tone Kuroo had never heard from him before but immediately wanted more of. Kenma looked up at him at then, his eyelashes framing his eyes so perfectly, and Kuroo got the usual shivers—except these were a touch heavier, just a bit headier than usual. 

But then Kenma’s lip quirked up, and Kuroo nearly tripped over his feet as his chest suddenly seized. 

Kenma ducked his head, but Kuroo still caught it. Caught the way the light of the room flickered in Kenma’s eyes. Caught the way his teeth bit at his lip to keep his smile down. Caught the way his hair fell from behind his ear at the movement.

Kuroo caught a lot of things in that moment. He just wasn’t fortunate enough to catch his own heart as it seemed to soar at the sight of Kenma smiling in his arms.

Oh, he was a bigger idiot than he’d thought. 

_3 Days_

It was only three days until the King’s plans were to be set into motion, and neither Kuroo nor Kenma were sure exactly what to do.

The rituals and magic around necromancy were foggy at best, and save a human heart, none of the rituals they managed to find had much in common. 

Without knowing what exactly King Nakashima’s plans were, it would be incredibly challenging to actually stop him. If they went it without knowing, the king would have the upper hand and would likely overpower the both of them. That meant any plan where they tried using the other as bait, or tried conceding to each other’s plans, would likely just end in death for one if not both of them.

As tense as the night was, it was also almost comfortable. Kenma’s presence had become a comfort to Kuroo - a comfort Kuroo wasn’t even aware he needed - and being able to spend this time together alone was something Kuroo treasured. 

Except Kenma had barely spoken a word since Kuroo walked into the room. 

He’d spared him a short greeting, and then returned to diligently writing his letter. Kuroo had intended to let him finish, not wanting to interrupt him, but the time continued to pass without Kenma stopping. But as much as he respected his work, he didn’t want their last night to be spent in silence.

“Kenma,” Kuroo called, and Kenma’s hand stilled. “Can we talk? Preferably sometime before the night ends?”

Kenma raised his left hand, a single finger rising to tell Kuroo to wait, but Kuroo couldn’t help but get distracted by the sight of it. He’d never taken the time to notice Kenma’s hands, but they were more elegant than he expected. His fingers were long, and while his palms looked rough, the skin on the back of his hand looked soft and smooth. 

Gods above, he was waxing poetic about the man’s hand. There was no hope for him.

The scratching of Kenma’s pen finally stopped completely, and Kuroo was pulled from his musings as Kenma turned to look at him.

“I have a plan,” Kenma said slowly, eye trained on his knees. “A plan that will allow us both to survive.”

Kuroo's eyes went so large he almost felt them begin to strain. Kenma had come up with a plan. All their late night meetings weren’t for naught - he had something, and not only that but it would ensure both their lives.

Kenma had come up with a plan where Kuroo lived alongside him. Kenma cared if Kuroo lived or not. His heart fluttered at the thought.

Then Kenma stood, and held out the document he had been working so hard on. “This is a letter that will grant you haven in Fukurodani.” Kuroo’s brow furrowed. What was Kenma talking about? “I studied their manners and customs, and with this they will offer you protection without hesitation.” Kenma looked expectantly at the document in his hand, and Kuroo slowly reached out to take it from him. Careful of the still drying ink, he scanned it over as Kenma continued. “I can stay here. We know the King wants at least one of us alive, so my life will be secure.”

“For now,” Kuroo muttered darkly as he got halfway through the letter. He didn’t like this at all. The King would find out about this immediately, and Kenma’s life would be in danger. “Why does it have to be you? Why can’t you leave for somewhere safer while I stay behind?”

Kenma huffed in frustration, running his hand through his hair. “Where would I even go, Kuro? Karasuno distrusts me so much they would kill me the instant they recognized me, and no other nation would trust a cat enough to grant them protection.”

Kuroo frowned. Kenma was right. The letter he’d written for Kuroo relied on the trust Kuroo had built with Bokuto, not the trust the kingdom had in Kenma.

“Well we don’t even know for certain if Fukurodani will accept me.” Kuroo thought of his last interaction with Akaashi and grimaced. “Bokuto is my friend, but Akaashi can barely stand the sight of me. I’m still a cat to them.”

“Look towards the end of the letter.” Kuroo looked skeptically at Kenma before dropping his eyes to finish reading it. 

His face went pale.

“I’ve guaranteed the safety of Fukurodani with my life,” Kenma said softly, as if Kuroo wasn’t reading the words himself. “If they take you in, then I will do everything in my power to ensure their safety. If I fail, I’ll take my own life.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo breathed, hands gripping the letter so tightly it was beginning to crumple. “This...you can’t put your life on the line like this! What if we both went together?”

“Akaashi hates me more than he hates you.” Kenma smiled sadly. “Besides we need someone to stay behind as assurance for the other. And someone to protect our friends.”

Kuroo shook his head, placing the letter on the table beside him. It had felt less real when Kenma had first suggested this. But now Kenma looked so resigned, and Kuroo had a sinking feeling that he truly intended on going through with this.

“There has to be another way.” Kuroo looked pleadingly at Kenma, but he just averted his gaze. “Kenma, we still have time.”

“We have three days, which is enough for you to travel to Fukurodani before the King’s deadline.” Kenma fist clenched by his side, and Kuroo wanted more than anything to smooth them out. “Why are you being so difficult about this? This isn’t a bad option by any means - you and Bokuto are close, and he’d be able to make sure you’d have a good life up there.”

The issue was that those were all good points. Kenma was offering Kuroo a scenario he hadn’t thought possible - one he would likely have jumped at just a month ago. He would’ve been sad to leave his friends, and would find a way to ensure their safety afterward; but, he also would’ve been ecstatic over the thought of not having to live in constant fear for his life.

But now he had Kenma. Maybe not the way he wanted, but he knew him now in a way he couldn’t have possibly imagined before. He didn’t quite want to let go of that yet. Let go of him yet. 

Even if he was looking away from Kuroo with anger and frustration obvious on his face. It was subtle, carried in the way his eyebrows barely furrow, and his lip juts out just a bit, but it was clearly there. 

He wondered how much he must’ve stared at Kenma to learn all the subtleties of his face. 

And then Kuroo noticed the way Kenma's eyes seemed unfocused. How his entire body seemed rigid and stiff. How there was definitely anger, but there seemed to be something else there too. Something like fear.

Kenma was scared. 

Kuroo inhaled sharply. Kenma was scared, and, given his insistence, at least a part of that fear was on behalf of Kuroo. Scared Kuroo wouldn’t choose to take this out, and what it would mean for his safety.

At least that’s what Kuroo hoped his fear meant; but, he’d been learning to have hope in Kenma for weeks now.

He stepped up to Kenma, closing the distance between them like Kenma did once before when he’d revealed his intentions with Karasuno. Kenma startled at the proximity, and Kuroo wasted no time grabbing Kenma’s now relaxed hands in his.

Kenma stilled, and started down at where their fingers intertwined. “Kuro…”

“You once said that trying to keep friends in the world we lived in was a thing of fools.” Kuroo pulled their interlock hands to his chest, causing Kenma to stumble a few steps forward. Once he righted himself, he looked up at Kuroo, his wide eyes holding more emotion that Kuroo had ever seen in them. 

“I did,” Kenma said, tone hoarse and helpless and practically pleading for Kuroo to stop.

As if he could stop now, after all they’ve been through.

“If that’s true, then I’m something worse than a fool.” Kuroo smiled self deprecatingly. Kenma bit his lip and began to slowly shake his head, but Kuroo merely squeezed his hands tighter in response.

“I’m in love with you, after all.”

Kuroo caught as Kenma’s entire face began to crumble before he pressed his forehead against Kuroo’s chest, hiding himself from view. 

Kuroo didn’t know what to make of that. 

“I didn’t say it to upset you,” Kuroo said softly, looking down and trying to tilt his head to get a better view of Kenma. “I have no expectations of you, and if you don’t returned my feelings - ”

A soft, bitter laugh broke through Kuroo’s words. 

“As if you gave me any other choice,” Kenma said, voice muffled but words ringing all too clearly in Kuroo’s ears. He felt hope swell in his chest, and he pulled gently at Kenma’s shoulders to try and look him in the eyes. Kenma refused to budge.

“Kenma, look at me please.”

“What good would that do?”

Kuroo swallowed, praying Kenma couldn’t feel the way his heart was racing from his place against his chest. “I would like to look at you, when you tell me if you love me or not.”

Kenma stilled, and Kuroo worried he’d said the wrong thing. He hadn’t meant to pressure Kenma or make him uncomfortable. But his words and overall reaction to Kuroo’s confession was causing his head to spin. He simply wanted an answer. 

And an answer it looked he would receive as Kenma slowly pushed away from his chest. “I don’t think I could bear the thought of you thinking your love went unreturned.” Kuroo bit back the urge to scream. That answer could mean anything. Finally, Kenma looked up to meet Kuroo’s gaze, and that all too familiar shiver ran down his spine. “For all your claims of how dangerous I am, you’ve scared me for far longer. Most scary of all was how little time it took for me to fall in love with you.”

Kuroo’s heart soared and his blood burned. He untangled his hands from Kenma’s so that he could cup his jaw, tilting his head up so he could bring their lips together. He hadn’t the clue how long he’d been waiting for this, but now that it was within his grasp, kissing Kenma was all he could think about.

Kenma jerked away before their lips had the chance to even brush.

Kuroo froze and immediately pulled back from Kenma, careful to give him his space. He readied an apology for his presumption, but paused when the emotions on Kenma’s face registered. 

Sadness. Resignation. Heartbreak.

“Why don’t you look anything like one would expect when they’re in love?” Kuroo tried speaking lightly, hoping to lessen the tension he could already feel building up between them. Kenma simply shook his head at him.

“It would’ve been easier if one of us didn’t feel the same way.” Kenma's gaze lowered again, and Kuroo ducked his head in an attempt to catch it. “It would actually be easier if neither of us were in love at all.”

“What?” Kenma flinched at the volume of his voice, and Kuroo calmed himself but continued just as strongly. “How could you say something like that?”

“Because you still have to go!” Kenma's voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly tears were spilling from his eyes. Kuroo watched with wide eyes as Kenma hastily wiped them away, desperately wanting to reach out to him but not knowing if he was allowed closer. Kenma sniffled once before lowering his hands and looking sadly at Kuroo. “You still have to go, Kuro. Our being in love doesn’t change that.” 

“It changes everything!” Kuroo exclaimed and Kenma’s mouth parted in surprise. He took a hesitant step towards Kenma and when he did nothing but continue to stare, he kept going until they were again merely centimeters apart. Raising a shaky hand, he cupped Kenma’s cheek and both he and Kenma sighed at the touch. “You see, before we were simply trying to survive. Now, we’re trying to find a way to be together.”

Kenma’s brows furrowed in confusion. “That doesn’t mean anything - our circumstances haven’t changed at all. The King still has a ritual for the undead planned and our lives will still be in danger in three days time.”

“I have found,” Kuroo began lowly as he lowered his gaze to Kenma’s lips. “That love works as an incredible motivator.”

“You’re the worst,” Kenma breathed, and Kuroo ducked his head to kiss him before he could another word out. Their lips brushed, lingering together for a single heartbeat, before Kenma was pulling back yet again.

“We can’t.” His voice was soft as he spoke, and the way his fist clenched around the front of Kuroo’s shirt seemed to contradict his words. Still, his tone was firm. “It would be a distraction if we started this now, especially with what little time we have left. And if things don’t go to plan…”

Kuroo understood where Kenma was coming from. Understood but didn’t agree. If there was a chance they wouldn’t live to the end of the week, then he would want to spend as much time together beforehand. 

But he respected Kenma’s wishes and wouldn’t push. He just had to make sure everything worked out in their favor.

“We might not be able to come up with anything.” Kenma looked seriously at Kuroo, fist tightening around his shirt. “If we can’t you need to promise me you’ll leave. If anything goes wrong, you will take this letter and flee for Fukurodani, okay?”

“Okay.” Kuroo said, stroking his thumb against the apple of Kenma’s cheek.

He had no intention of keeping this promise.

_The Night of the Full Moon_

Kuroo paced in his bedroom, trying to expel his nerves and worries from his mind.

Kenma still thought Kuroo should leave. In fact, he told him that if anything went wrong tonight, Kuroo should still try and slip away if he found the opportunity. 

Kuroo gripped his fist around the hilt of his sword. He’d make sure it didn’t come to that. 

A knock at his door startled Kuroo. Kuroo narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t the knock he and Kenma had agreed upon, but it was entirely possible that someone else needed him for a question or request or even a chat. It wouldn’t be the first time this had happened to Kuroo. 

Shifting his sword so it was out of sight, and tucking the knife on the back of his belt further in, Kuroo cracked open the door with a perfectly placed smile.

He was met by a cloud of dust in his face.

Kuroo coughed, staggering back as he tried to keep the dust as far away from him as possible. He reached blindly for his sword, but his limbs felt heavy and he instead swayed on the spot.

Against his will, Kuroo’s eyes began to flutter closed, and the last thing he saw before everything went dark was a distorted grinning face.

-

When Kuroo came too, he was bound, gagged, and his face was pressed against something cold.

He groaned, rolling from his side to his back, and tried to make sense of where he was.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

Kuroo tensed, and he whipped his head around to where King Nakashima was standing by the door. 

Well, wasn’t that inconvenient. Kuroo tried shifting around as little as possible, and was relieved when he realized the King hadn’t noticed the knife he had tucked away.

Now all Kuroo had to do was sneakily cut himself free from his bindings, use the knife to take down the King and his very strong sword, and break free of the dingey dungeon he was pretty sure he was being kept in. 

Easy.

“You know, from the moment I met you I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” King Nakashima said slowly, and it took everything in Kuroo not to roll his eyes. Great. To top it off, the king was going to monologue at him. “For many reasons, but most of it came down to a gut feeling. And then, a few weeks ago, you started acting strangely.”

Nakashima stalked over to Kuroo, looking down as he circled around him. “I figured you were planning on usurping me from the throne. It didn’t quite add up, but I couldn’t think of any other reason for your strange behavior.”

The king squatted down, grabbing Kuroo’s face with a look of complete disgust. “And then I noticed the way you looked at Kozume.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened, surprised _that_ was what the King had noticed, and Nakashima just smirked as he stood back up. “Then it all made sense!” He laughed, high and scratchy, and took all of Kuroo’s power not to wince at the sound. “You, loyal to the kingdom above all else, wouldn’t betray me for your own selfish gain. But for someone else?” The King chuckled again. “You’ve always been a fool ruled by your own heart.”

Kuroo was almost grateful for the cloth tied tight across this face, because it was one of the few things keeping him from laughing. _This_ was what the King thought they’d been up to? He thought they wanted his throne? 

Well that gave them the upper hand in one regard - King Nakashima had no clue they knew about his plans for necromancy.

Now all he had to do was find Kenma--

“Oh, you’ve got that look in your eye again,” Nakashima said, a thin grin spreading on his lips. “Have you started wondering where Kozume is?”

Kuroo’s blood froze. He assumed since he was alone with the king that Kenma was safe, had gotten away somehow. 

But what if Nakashima got to Kenma first? What if he had help from someone else? What if Kenma was somewhere, on the verge of death, while Kuroo could’ve--

“Your Majesty!” Naruko Teppei exclaimed as he burst through the door. “Your Majesty, I can’t find Kozume Kenma anywhere!”

Immediately, Kuroo could breath more easily.

Clearing his head, he was determined not to let his thoughts spiral. He would be of no use to himself or Kenma if he got lost in his anxieties. 

Fortunately for Kuroo, King Nakashima stormed over to Teppei. Using the momentary distraction, he shimmied his knife from his back holster, and tried cutting through his ties around his wrist as quickly as possible with his unsteady grip.

“What do you mean you can’t find him?” Nakashima snapped as Kuroo began to cut.

“I mean he wasn’t in his room, he wasn’t in the grounds, he wasn’t anywhere!” Teppei said, and then Nakashima striked him across his face so hard he collapsed onto the ground.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down right now,” the king said lowly, and Teppei shakily tried pulling his sword from his hilt. 

Nakashima just kicked it out of his grip. 

“Give me the bloodwood knife right now, or else I’ll slit your throat,” Nakashima hissed, and Kuroo watched as Teppei practically threw a small knife at the King. 

The king whirled around to Kuroo then, and in that moment he cut through his wrist bindings. He remained still though. He needed the element of surprise on his side.

“You,” Nakashima said, returning to Kuroo and crouching down to glare at him. “Where the hell is Kozume hiding?”

Kuroo just grinned around his gag.

Nakashima growled, yanking down the cloth roughly from Kuroo’s mouth. “Now, tell me--”

Kuroo didn’t give him another moment. 

He swung the knife quickly at Nakashima, slashing his face and causing the king to fall back on his ass. Kuroo cut through the bindings around his ankles in one smooth action, and hopped to his feet before the king could recover.

Weapon, he needed a weapon. Eyes locking onto where Teppei’s discarded sword was lying, he dove toward it, landing in a roll and he swiped the sword up, and brought it up into a defensive position.

“I should’ve known better than to underestimate the Captain of the Guard,” Nakashima said as he turned to look at Kuroo, his face dripping with blood. “But mind you I won this position by killing the last king. Teppei, guard the door.”

Kuroo saw from his peripherals as Teppei scuttled in front of the door, but Kuroo kept his gaze trained on Nakashima. 

What he said was true. The king was a well-known swordsman, and that meant Kuroo couldn’t let his guard down.

But make no mistake. Kuroo was still better.

Nakashima shifted, just barely to his right, and Kuroo dashed towards his left. The blood on his face had created a blind spot, and Kuroo planned on fully utilizing that. Just as he expected, the King barely had enough time to bring his sword up.

Kuroo quickly ducked to the other side, swiping at Nakashima’s legs and grinned when he managed to slash at him.

Teppei’s sword was lighter than he was used to, but that just meant he had to rely on his speed more than his power. No matter. The fight wouldn’t continue on for long.

Kuroo kept his strategy up, dodging as many strikes as he could from Nakashima, and slashing into his arms and legs over and over until the King was barely able to stand. 

King Nakashima looked desperate as he gasped for breath, arms shaking as he struggled to carry his sword up, and Kuroo charged in for the final strike.

Nakashima lashed out wildly then, and Kuroo hissed as the tip of the king’s sword managed to cut through his shirt and chest, but he powered through the pain. The King’s attack had left him wide up.

Kuroo swung his sword up in a long arch, and Nakashima’s sword went flying through the air. Nakashima looked at his empty hands, and Kuroo swept his feet from under him, and pointed his sword at Nakashima’s neck.

The king looked stunned for a moment before he broke into a horrid laugh.

“You don’t have the heart,” King Nakshima sneered. “You're too good.”

“You think much too highly of me, Your Majesty,” Kuroo panted through his heaving breaths, raising his sword up and aiming it down at the King’s neck. 

An all encompassing pain from his side stopped him cold, making him gasp and drop his sword in shock. He went to reach for his weapon again, but the king swung his knee up into Kuroo’s torso, knocking him on his back and making him breathless with pain. 

“Good work, Teppei,” Nakashima said with a crazed sounding laugh as he crawled over Kuroo. He pinned Kuroo down, and reached blindly for the bloodwood knife.

Kuroo tried bucking him off, but the pain in his side struck with every movement, and his bleeding had made him lightheaded, and his entire body was beaten and bruised from the fight.

And he was tired. So tired.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Nakashima said, playing with the knife in his hand. “You and Kozume have always been a sore in my side, ever since you were children and wandered into the bloodwood forest without a care in the world.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened, and Nakashima chuckled. “Did you not know? The two of you are the only two to survive those woods. It’s why I needed one of your hearts for my ritual to work. Only those blessed from above have the power to raise the dead.”

Nakashima wrapped a bloody hand around Kuroo’s neck, and Kuroo kicked weakly as he began to suffocate. 

“I wanted one of you alive because you’re both unfortunately talented in warfare,” Nakashima finished, raising the knife high as he prepared to plunge it into Kuroo’s chest. “But I think I’ll kill you both - starting with you, Kuroo Tetsurou.”

Maybe, Kuroo thought dazedly as he stared at the gleam of the knife, if he was blessed from above as the King said, he would be reincarnated. If anything was to be true about spirituality, reincarnation always sounded the nicest. Maybe he would be born in a time where there was no blood or war, where he could find passions outside of simply staying alive, where he and Kenma could even spend their whole lives together.

It would be nice. It would even make this whole hell of a life worth it.

Still, watching as the knife descended on him in what felt like slow motion wasn’t how he wanted to have his life end now. 

He would’ve liked to see Kenma’s face just one time more.

But before Nakashima’s arm could even get halfway down, there was a quiet _thunk_ sound and then Kuroo was stunned as Nakashima let out a harsh choking sound. Two more _thunks_ quickly followed, and Nakashima barely had time to look between Kuroo and his own now bleeding chest, before he was falling to the side - revealing Kenma standing at the door to the dungeons with wide eyes and several knives in hand.

Their eyes locked, Kenma’s going even wide at the sight of Kuroo, and Kuroo’s relaxing in utter relief at the sight of Kenma, and then Kenma was running to Kuroo. He dropped to his knees at Kuroo’s side, and pressed his hands to Kuroo’s face. 

“Kuro,” Kenma said, his voice wobbly and breaking around the name as he ran his fingers over Kuroo’s eyes and nose and mouth and cheeks. 

“I’m alright,” Kuroo said through a pained smile, trying to make Kenma feel better, and Kenma glared fiercely at him.

“You are not,” he snapped, bringing one hand to press gently against Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo hissed at the pressure, and Kenma immediately looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I tried to—I wanted to find you as quickly as I could. But you weren’t in your room, and I panicked because I wasn’t sure if it meant you left or something had happened, but I… I didn’t think…”

“He didn’t think you’d leave without saying goodbye,” a voice called out, and it was then that Kuroo realized Kenma hadn’t entered alone.

Scattered around the room where all of their friends. Yamamoto was tying up Teppei, Fukunaga was looking at the ruins on the floor with a strange frown, and Kai and Yaku were standing over the gravely injured king with worried expressions. 

“It’s a good thing you’re such a sap,” Yamamoto continued with a grin. “Otherwise, we would’ve made a big mistake.”

“We’ve already made a big mistake,” Yaku said drily, pursing his lips before he looked at Kenma. “The plan was to keep the king alive.”

“Plans change,” Kenma said readily, not taking his eyes off of Kuroo. “Specifically, when a tyrant is about to stab Kuro.” 

“Don’t lie,” Nakashima hissed, before coughing up blood. Everyone placed a hand over their sword, but the man was barely moving. He just laid on his side, glaring weakly at Kuroo and Kenma with the little life he had left. “You wanted my crown for ages. Since you were a boy. Since you walked into the Forest of Whispers and were possessed.”

Kenma finally looked away from Kuroo, and the look he gave the king made even Kuroo wince in fear. 

“I’ve neither been possessed nor plotted against your crown,” Kenma said, his tone low and dangerous as he spoke. “We wanted you alive because a coup almost always leads to a civil war - something none of us want.”

“You’re lying,” Nakashima insisted, but Kuroo could see the doubt in his eyes. Or maybe it was simply the way a man looked while he was dying. “How else could you have both been from the same wood?”

“Chance,” Kenma said with a shrug, and then he offered the king one parting statement, “There was no magic or possession or anything like that. You lived believing in nothing, and you will die believing in nothing too.”

Kenma turned back to Kuroo, and Kuroo reached a shaky hand up to tuck some of Kenma’s hair behind his ear. His hand was bloody, but Kenma didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he just stared down at Kuroo in wonder and his eyes began to well with tears.

“You’re crying,” Kuroo pointed out as a drop fell from Kenma’s eyes and landed on his cheek. 

“Shut up,” Kenma said with a broken laugh.

“Don’t cry,” Kuroo murmured, rubbing his thumb along Kenma’s cheekbone. “It all worked out.”

“None of this worked out like we planned,” Kenma said with a scoff. “The only good thing was that I managed to find so many of our friends so quickly, and that was a mix of chance and luck.”

“Or maybe fate,” Kuroo said, and Kenma rested his head against Kuroo’s chest.

“I’ll stab your other side,” he said against Kuroo’s heart, and he swore with those words his heart was sworn to Kenma against his will.

“Let’s not do that,” Fukunaga said, and again Kuroo was reminded that he and Kenma weren’t alone. “Let’s instead figure out what we’re going to do about the fact the King is dead.”

“Just pretend he’s not,” Kenma mumbled, and Kuroo knew he was joking but the words immediately sparked an idea.

“We could likely do that,” Kuroo started slowly, his mind working. “Pretend he’s still alive, make up an illness in a month, have him name an heir in that time…”

Kuroo tried to sit up quickly, ready to get to work on the plan, but then stars exploded behind his eyes as pain tore through his entire body. He struggled to keep his eyes open, hearing his friends and his Kenma calling to him, but he blinked once, and then darkness swallowed him up.

_Aftermath_

When Kuroo opened his eyes, everything was entirely too bright. He groaned, pressing the heels of his hand into his eyes and wincing at the pain from his side.

Oh, right. He’d been stabbed. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a woman’s voice said to him, and Kuroo lowered his arms to see Haiba Alisa standing over him with a gentle smile. “How are you feeling, Captain?”

“I’ve endured worse,” Kuroo rasped, before clearing his throat. “Though some water would be nice?”

Alisa was already pouring him a cup, and pressing it to Kuroo’s hands. “You’re actually lucky blood loss was all you had to deal with,” she said as she circled Kuroo speculatively. Kuroo narrowed his eyes at her, and she just smiled blithely. “Nothing vital was hit, and all you required was stitches and rest.”

“How long exactly have I been resting?” Kuroo asked, sitting up properly and ignoring the ache in his side.

Alisa looked disapproving at Kuroo’s motion, but she knew from experience that there was no stopping Kuroo once he woke from an injury. 

“A little more than a day,” Alisa started slowly, before the smile on her face became more knowing. “Did you know Kenma stayed by your side nearly the whole time. I had to kick him out just an hour ago because he was in desperate need of a bath and food.”

Kuroo was already sliding out of the bed.

“Kenma was here?” He asked, feeling his heart leap at the thought. He looked around for something to wear — the gown he was wearing by no means appropriate beyond the infirmary — and beamed when he found a pile of his clothes folded on the far table. 

“I suspect he’s in the kitchens now,” Alisa said with a resigned sigh. “Though he should be making his way back here within the hour.”

“As if I could wait an hour,” Kuroo said with a scoff, and Alisa just hummed as she exited the room to give him his privacy. Kuroo wasted no time throwing on his shirt, pants, and boots, and if his haste caused his side to ache, so be it. 

Once he looked presentable, Kuroo left the medical bay with only a nod to Alisa and her medical assistant Inuoka. 

He walked as quickly as he could towards the kitchens, his heartbeat pounding in his ears at the thought of seeing Kenma. There was no more conspiracy, no more impending war, no more constant fear of their lives. They could finally be together, in the way Kuroo soul was desperately craving. 

He could hardly wait to get his hands on the man.

And then Kenma was turning the corner at the end of the long hallway Kuroo had just entered. Kuroo’s steps stuttered to a halt, but Kenma’s eyes were trained to the ground and hadn’t noticed him yet.

Kuroo opened his mouth, but words didn’t seem enough to capture the feeling in his chest. It felt both hot and cold, both sharp and dull, both hurried and leisurely, somehow encompassing all the contradiction of Kenma’s Kuroo now held dear.

Then, as if he could sense him, Kenma’s eyes flicked up to Kuroo.

And Gods help him, Kuroo would never love a pair of eyes more than he loved Kenma’s.

Kenma’s eyes widened in surprise as he himself came to a stop and took Kuroo in. Hope, desire, and joy were all heavy in his voice when he quietly gasped, “Kuro.”

Kuroo’s brain restarted then, and in the next moment he was striding across the hall with newfound purpose. It took him mere seconds to reach Kenma, and then Kuroo was cupping Kenma’s face with both hands and kissing him like he’d been dying to for ages.

When Kenma immediately tilted his head back just so and kissed Kuroo back just as intensely, Kuroo felt energy surge up in him. He began walking Kenma back steadily, licking at his bottom lip, and groaning when Kenma opened his mouth to him.

By the time Kenma’s back met the hallway wall, both of Kenma’s hands were grasping at Kuroo hips and tugging him closer, and Kuroo was licking into Kenma’s mouth languidly, dropping one hand to squeeze at Kenma’s waist when he moaned into the kiss.

It was heaven.

And then Kenma was pulling away from him, their lips parting with a gentle smack.

Kuroo opened his eyes to see Kenma already looking dazedly at him. His hair was still damp from his wash, and some locks were pressed flat against his flushed cheeks as he stared at Kuroo he had something to say. 

“We have,” Kenma started breathily, and Kuroo pressed his pelvis just a little closer to him at the tone. Kenma dug his nails into Kuroo’s hips at the motion, working his jaw around nothing before he exhaled shakily. “We have important political matters we still need to discuss.”

Kuroo groaned in frustration, dropping his mouth to Kenma’s jaw.

“What’s so pressing that we can’t save it until tomorrow,” Kuroo asked against Kenma’s skin, and at the shiveres he felt rake through Kenma he amended, “Or the day after that?”

“An official statement from Teppei,” Kenma started, and Kuroo just slipped his hands up the back of Kenma’s shirt.

“Let Kai and Yaku handle that.”

“What to do with the King’s body?”

Kuroo skimmed his lips down Kenma’s neck, relishing in the soft skin and Kenma’s sharp inhale. “Let it rot.”

“And who is to be the new King of Nekoma?”

Kuroo frowned, nipping at Kenma’s collarbone in thought, and most likely deserving the swat Kenma aimed at his head. “Why do we need to concern ourselves with that now? We’re pretending the King is still alive for at least another month.”

“But we need to start warming the public to whoever it is now,” Kenma said, running a hand through Kuroo’s hair, and tugging his head back just enough to look him seriously in the eyes. “No one’s fighting for it, but I think we all agree that if you want--”

“The things I want,” Kuroo practically purred as he leaned in close to Kenma’s ear. “Should not be spoken out loud in a public corridor, Kenma.”

“And you dared to once call me dangerous,” Kenma snapped, the flush on his face spreading down his neck. 

“I think I finally found the kind of dangerous you are,” Kuroo smirked, and before Kenma could retort, Kuroo intertwined their fingers and brought them to his lips. “I haven’t a single care for the throne - it’s yours if you want it. Just let me stay by your side like this. Just like this.”

The look on Kenma’s face was almost angry as he stared at Kuroo, and then he was yanking down Kuroo by the collar of his shirt into a bruising kiss. Kuroo wasted no time falling into it, relishing in how the give of Kenma’s mouth was better than anything Kuroo could have ever dreamed of, opening and pushing back against Kuroo’s own in perfect tandem.

Kuroo kissed Kenma well past the point of feeling lightheaded, and only parted when the heat in his veins made it clear that he was going to have to relocate them soon.

“Is that a yes?” Kuroo asked, grinning at the impatient noise that escaped from the back of Kenma’s throat. 

“Wipe that smug look off your face.” Kuroo laughed, and Kenma looked even more displeased - though Kuroo was uncertain if it was because of his reaction of the fact that he was still pulled away from it. Kenma tugged insistently on the front of his clothes and Kuroo found his answer. 

“I don’t care about being King either,” Kenma said just before Kuroo brought their lips together. “It could be Kai or Yamamoto or even Lev. I’ve never cared about it.”

“Ah, you were too focused on caring about my attention, a worthy cause,” Kuroo said approvingly, and then he ducked his head to kiss Kenma once again before he could complain.

He found that kissing Kenma was an incredible method in trying to get the last word. 

“You’re a fool,” Kenma breathed as they parted for a breath, and Kuroo just smiled against his lips.

“Yes — but I’m _your_ fool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so,,,,,,,you may have noticed there's a funny little third part there,,,,,,,,
> 
> i'm letting all who wants to know that it is jsut straight up nsfw - if its not ur thing ur not missing out on literally any plot by not reading it, and if it is your things then go right on ahead!!
> 
> feel free to stop by my [twitter](https://twitter.com/neenswrites)and talk anime to me!!!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just a little while longer,” Kuroo whispered, hand sliding onto Kenma’s face so he could run his thumb over Kenma’s open mouth. “Just keep your eyes on me a little while longer.”
> 
> -
> 
> They finally fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i can finally check writing kuroken having sex off the bucket list asdfk;j
> 
> THANKS AGAIN TO CHRISTY who is the master at beta reading while also not perceiving anythnig shes the best
> 
> AGAIN there isn't really anything plot relevant here so if you don't care for porn i would recommend you turn back now

Kuroo trailed light kisses up Kenma’s neck, and smiled when Kenma clicked his tongue.

“You are the most insatiable man I’ve ever met,” Kenma said as he continued to put a pile of books back in place on the large bookshelf in their shared room. It was late, only a few candles and the moon’s glow illuminating the room.

Still, despite his words, Kenma tilted his head to the side, granting Kuroo more area to work with. 

Kuroo’s grin only widened as his hands moved to wrap around Kenma’s waist.

“Thank you for such an esteemed title,” Kuroo replied lowly against Kenma’s skin. He pulled back enough to turn Kenma to face him, and ducked his head low until their breaths mingled. “I will do my absolute best daily in proving that it was well earned.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kenma said with a small smile, and then Kuroo was pulling his body flush against him and kissing him full on the mouth. Kenma met him readily, bringing his hands up to press against Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo felt as those clever fingers spread out wide before sliding up to Kuroo’s shoulders at a leisurely pace and finally digging in the fabric of his clothes to yank Kuroo just a little closer.

Parting for a moment, Kenma leaned forward to breathe, “I’m tired of being on my toes, Kuro.”

The heat that spread through Kuroo was similar to the one he got when Kenma riled him up or quirked an eyebrow up at him or just barely brushed his fingers over Kuroo’s shoulders. 

Similar, but not exactly the same. 

This heat was headier, burning low in Kuroo’s stomach and spread to his hands that were pressing under the hems of Kenma’s top, to his legs that were leading Kenma back to the bed, to his lips which seared kiss after kiss over Kenma’s lips until the man had to break for breath.

“You’re eager,” Kenma noted with a gasp as Kuroo ducked to bite a mark at the point between Kenma’s neck and his collarbone.

“And you’re a brat,” Kuroo replied easily. His voice was rougher than he thought it would be, but it didn’t matter to him. Both their voices would be hoarse by the end of the night. “If we’re done stating the obvious…”

Kenma huffed out a laugh, and then inhaled in surprise as Kuroo gathered him up just to drop him onto the bed. 

Kuroo gave Kenma a moment to catch himself on the bed and then crawled onto the bed after him. Kuroo stopped at where Kenma’s shirt hung over his hips, slipping his hands under the fabric and sliding it up, up, up, until he was pulling it over Kenma’s head.

“Let me see you, too,” Kenma demanded, pulling at the neck of Kuroo’s shirt until Kuroo had no choice but to sit back and tug the garment off. Once he tossed the shirt over his shoulder, he turned back to see Kenma looking over him as he bit his lip.

“You should never have to wear a shirt,” Kenma said with a sigh, reaching up to run his fingers up Kuroo’s arms. “I should mention that to Kai sometime. Make it a royal decree.”

“Do you truly want that many people looking at me?” Kuroo teased, hovering over Kenma with a grin.

The grin dropped off his face as Kenma yanked him down enough so he could bite the area in the center of his chest.

“As if that would matter,” Kenma said darkly, before sucking hard on the mark he left on Kuroo. 

Kuroo rolled his hips down into the mattress as Kenma placed none too gentle kisses around his chest, taking care to flick his tongue against Kuroo’s nipples. He took a steadying breath, and then leaned back enough that Kenma was forced to remove his mouth from Kuroo with a loud ‘pop’.

Kenma looked entirely too pleased as he stared at the marks he left on Kuroo, and Kuroo ducked down to place a quick kiss against his lips and the dropping to suck hard on the area just above Kenma’s left nipple.

Kenma’s back arched up cleanly, and Kuroo slipped an arm in the space Kenma created between his lower back and the bed. Pressing his hand up against Kenma’s back, he bit mark after mark on Kenma, sure to leave as many as Kenma had left on him. 

Finally, Kuroo dragged his mouth down until he met the waistband of Kenma’s pants. He kissed the spot right below Kenma’s belly button, heard the man whimper, and glanced up to see his expression.

A frown pulled at Kuroo’s lips when he realized Kenma’s eyes were closed.

“Kenma,” Kuroo murmured against Kenma’s skin, rubbing his hand lightly against Kenma’s outer thigh. “Open your eyes for me.”

Kenma groaned impatiently, and instead of opening his eyes, brought his hand to Kuroo’s hair and pulled insistently. Kuroo hissed, his grip tightening on Kenma’s thigh. He nipped at Kenma’s skin quickly in retaliation, and then shifted his body up so his head was by Kenma’s chest but his hand was still at Kenma’s pants.

“Kenma,” Kuroo drawled as he deftly began untying Kenma’s pants. This close to his chest, he could feel as it began to rise and fall more quickly. “Love, you know how much I like having your eyes on me.”

Kuroo slipped his hand into Kenma’s pants, and dragged his fingers in the featherlight touches over Kenma’s dick, already hot to the touch. Kenma whimpered again, but Kuroo watched with rapt attention as Kenma barely peaked his eyes open. 

Kuroo squeezed his hand around Kenma’s cock then, and Kenma’s eyes flew open as a ragged gasp tore through him.

“That’s it,” Kuroo said he started slowly jerking Kenma, running his eyes all over Kenma’s face. “Just keep those eyes open and trained on--”

“Shut up,” Kenma choked, bringing a hand up to cover Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo just stroked him faster at the action, and Kenma thrusted his hips up to meet him. “I opened my eyes, why are you still talking?”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows with a smirk, and then opened his mouth to catch two of Kenma’s fingers in his mouth. Kenma looked a wonderful mix of scandalized and aroused at the action, and he slid his hand away from Kuroo’s mouth with a glare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kuroo said smugly, and just as Kenma opened his mouth with a retort, Kuroo swiped his thumb over the head of Kenma’s dick.

The loud moan that rang out was just one of Kuroo’s favorite noises that Kenma could make.

“That’s better.”

“You’re awful,” Kenma complained. Kuroo tightened his grip just a bit, and Kenma kicked at him. “Take my pants off already.”

Kuroo sort of wanted to make Kenma wait just a bit, but it was difficult for him to work Kenma like this anyway. He slid his hand out of Kenma’s pants, relishing the slight noise of protest it earned him, and hurriedly finished unlacing Kenma’s pants and sliding them and his undergarments off and down his legs. 

Kuroo rose up onto his knees then, knowing Kenma preferred when they were at equal states of undress, and began unlacing his own pants. Kenma blinked up at him once, and that was all the warning Kuroo got before Kenma was moving to sit directly in front of Kuroo.

“Kenma,” Kuroo tried warning or chastising or something, he honestly wasn’t sure, because the moment Kenma dragged his hand over his clothed cock, all thought promptly left his mind.

“Sometimes I wonder how any part of you manages to stay maintained in your clothes,” Kenma said slowly, trailing his fingers over Kuroo’s thighs as he spoke. “Everything about you is just so large. Your shoulders, your thighs…”

Kuroo’s breath caught as Kenma’s hands yanked his pants down just enough for him to be able to pull out his dick. Kenma brought his mouth just centimeters left of where Kuroo was already hardening, pressing a small kiss to the skin there and making Kuroo’s blood heat to a temperature higher than the Sun’s core. 

“This too,” Kenma murmured, finally bringing a hand up to wrap around Kuroo. 

Kuroo whimpered loudly at the sensation, tilting his head up as Kenma’s deft, wonderful fingers twisted around his dick. He was already plenty hard, and could feel himself only grow in Kenma’s grip, and it took all his concentration not to get too lost in the feeling.

A bite on his hip bone made him both shiver and shoot his gaze down to Kenma.

“You want my eyes on you, Kuro?” Kenma breathed, his mouth hovering so closely to the head of Kuroo’s cock that Kuroo could feel that heat of it. “I’ll keep them on you then.”

And then Kenma was taking the head of Kuroo’s dick into his mouth, looking up at Kuroo with his gold eyes so hot he swore they were melting. 

Kuroo groaned loudly, and Kenma hummed in response, the vibration making its way around Kuroo and making him gasp for breath.

“Kenma,” Kuroo said in between breaths, torn between thinking of his long term plans and thinking about Kenma’s mouth hot and wet around him. Kenma sank just a little lower, running his tongue up along his cock in a way that made Kuroo pat desperately at the top of Kenma’s head. 

And as incredible as it felt, Kuroo had wanted something specific when he saw Kenma standing in the candlelight of their room, Kuroo’s large overshirt hanging semi-translucent over his body. He’d seen the bruises and bite marks and scratches and knew he only wanted to add to the marks he’d adorned on Kenma’s body, and gain some of his own in return. 

So Kuroo brought his hands to both sides of Kenma’s head, pulling him back - but not before Kenma could get one last lick at him. 

“You’re a minx, you know that?” Kuroo asked through gritted teeth, forcing his hips not to chase after Kenma’s mouth.

“I thought I was a brat,” Kenma replied easily, corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. 

“You are,” Kuroo started before gently pushing Kenma back on the bed and leaning over him, “The most lovely thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing in my life.” Kenma flushed even redder then, his head turning away from Kuroo. Kuroo pressed a kiss under his ear, and asked, “And I was wondering if I could have you tonight?”

Kuroo watched carefully as Kenma slid his gaze back over to him. “You already have me.”

If he couldn’t see the smirk so clear on Kenma’s face, Kuroo would’ve swooned. Or perhaps, would’ve swooned even more embarrassingly than he already was.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” Kuroo said with a nip to Kenma’s earlobe. “But if you want me to be clearer, I was wondering if I could thrust my--”

“Just get on with it,” Kenma said, batting Kuroo’s shoulder with a clearly amused smile on his face. “Before the candles burn out.”

“Who’s eager now?” Kuroo teased, but he didn’t waste anymore time reaching for the vial of oil they’d taken to keeping by their bedside ever since they moved into the same room. Kenma just rolled his eyes and spread his legs in response, and Kuroo guffawed at him. “Not even going to offer me a little help?”

“Too much effort,” Kenma said with a tilt of his head as he watched Kuroo settle between his legs. “Plus, you look so pretty from down there.”

“My view is better,” Kuroo mumbled, looking up at Kenma as he sucked dark bruises in the skin between his thighs. Kuroo pulled a pillow to place under Kenma’s hips, and pressed his thumb against Kenma's entrance. Kenma’s lips parted with a sharp inhale, his thighs spread just a little wider, and Kuroo didn’t need another sign to push his index finger into Kenma.

Kenma’s hips shifted at the feeling, and Kuroo pressed a gentle kiss to the base of Kenma’s cock as he slowly pumped his finger in and out. Kenma whined just a little, and then rolled his hips down on Kuroo’s finger in a single fluid motion.

Kuroo’s eyes snapped up to Kenma.

“I’m still a bit loose from this morning,” Kenma said huskily, his breath already starting to climb again. “You can put another.”

Kuroo didn’t say anything in response, just placed a steadying hand on Kenma’s thigh as he slid another finger into Kenma. Kenma hummed at the feeling, his knees reaching back towards his chest, and Kuroo found himself drunk with the sight of him. 

Kenma’s half gold hair fanned out around his face, his hands gripping and unwrapping the sheets, his slender body rolling almost imperceptibly against his hand. He was flushed from his ears to the tops of his chest, and already bruises were beginning to form all along his body.

He looked wonderfully ruined. It just made Kuroo want to ruin him some more. 

Kuroo curled his fingers quickly, and Kenma’s hooded eyes shot wide open. 

“Kuro,” was all Kenma was able to get out before Kuroo was curling his fingers again. Kenma choked on his next inhale, and Kuroo quickly thrusted his fingers in him twice more before curling them once more. 

Kuroo’s body arched up, and once it relaxed again, Kuroo was sliding another finger in Kenma. Kenma’s mouth opened wide, and yet no sound escaped it, so Kuroo brought his lips around Kenma’s cock just in case. 

Kenma immediately pulled on his hair, pulling Kuroo away with shaky mumbles of, “Too much Kuro, that’s too much.”

“Okay, love,” Kuroo said reassuringly, and Kenma kicked at him with a tiny gasp. Kuroo just chuckled, but it was all he could do to remain lighthearted about the affair once he managed to slip his fourth finger into Kenma.

“I’m ready,” Kenma whined, reaching down to dig his nails onto Kuroo’s wrist. “You don’t need to prepare me further, I’m  _ ready _ .”

Kuroo exhaled shakily, and nodded, sliding his fingers out of Kenma and wishing he could bottle up the sound he made at the loss.

Kuroo reached for the vial again, pouring the oil onto his hand, and jerking himself with a groan of relief. He sat back on his heels, closing his eyes to make sure he didn’t lose himself too soon. When he opened his eyes, Kenma’s gaze was on him, his gaze heady as he stared unabashedly at Kuroo pleasuring himself. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Kenma said as he licked his lips. He sat up, pulling Kuroo’s arm until Kuroo had to lean forward and his arms were bracketing Kenma. Kenma ran his hands up Kuroo’s arms, then his sides, then up and down his back. “The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, I swear.”

“You only say that because you’ve never seen yourself like I have,” Kuroo started, moving to hold his weight with one hand so he could guide the head of his cock to Kenma’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, gasping in time with Kenma at the sensation, and then thrusted shallowly to allow Kenma time to get used to the feeling. 

“You’ve never seen yourself from above,” Kuroo continued, pressing his hips just a little deeper on his next thrust, and groaning as Kenma turned his head to bite at the skin of his forearm. “Never seen yourself red and panting and--”

“Shut up,” Kenma gasped, and as Kuroo sank the rest of the way in Kenma just mindlessly repeated, “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut  _ up _ .”

“You alright?” Kuroo asked against the skin of Kenma’s neck. They’d done this before, but he still worried. Kenma was just always so tight around him, and it was as dizzying as it was concerning.

But then Kenma was rolling his body in one quick motion, and Kuroo whined loudly at the feeling of it. 

“I’m wonderful,” Kenma said raggedly, bringing his arms up to wrap around Kuroo’s neck. “Now kindly get to fucking me.”

Kuroo kissed Kenma, biting at his bottom lip as he heeded his command. 

Kuroo rolled his hips in long smooth movements, finding his rhythm to the melody of Kenma’s hiccuping gasps. He made sure to drive in as deeply as possible, made sure to keep his hips moving constantly, made sure to relish in the moment his hips met Kenma’s and he was completely surrounded by him. 

“Fuck,” Kuroo breathed, dropping a hand to push one of Kenma’s thighs higher towards his chest. Kenma brought his hand up to cover Kuroo’s, and Kuroo tightened his grip on the skin.

“Kuro,” Kenma moaned with every other thrust. Kuroo groaned at the litany of his name that Kenma was practically singing, and after a particularly choked, “Ku-ro,” Kuroo thrusted his hips just a little harder into Kenma. 

Kenma moaned loud and long, one leg seizing up for a moment before he dug his nails into Kuroo’s shoulders.

“Again, like that,” Kenma demanded, his voice shaky but his desire clear. “Kuro, just like that and just right there.”

And for Kenma? Anything. 

Spreading his legs just a little wider, Kuroo dropped from his arms to his elbows, and started fucking into Kenma roughly. He gasped as he thrusted his cock in quick succession over and over again, barely even out of Kenma before he was driving his hips back in. 

Kenma brought his knees up to Kuroo’s sides, his ankles crossing just above Kuroo’s ass as he urged him deeper and deeper, all while sucking kiss after kiss on Kuroo’s neck and chest and shoulders.

“You’re so good,” Kenma said breathily, his lips running hot over Kuroo’s skin. “So good for me, so good in me, just so good.”

Kuroo dug his head into Kenma’s shoulder, biting at the skin there as Kenma’s words washed over him. He fucked him just a little harder, a little quicker, and was rewarded with a sound that was a cross between a whimper and gasp. 

Suddenly needing to see Kenma, Kuroo backed away just enough to make eye contact with him.

Except Kenma’s eyes were clenched shut yet again.

Well that simply wouldn’t do. 

Kuroo slid his hand up the side of Kenma’s neck, his thumb landing just under Kenma’s jaw and tilting his chin up. 

“Just a little while longer,” Kuroo whispered, hand sliding onto Kenma’s face so he could run his thumb over Kenma’s open mouth. “Just keep your eyes on me a little while longer.”

Kenma whined but managed to pry his eyes open. He stared at Kuroo, barely looking like he registered the words he’d just said, and then suddenly he brought both his hands to the side of Kuroo’s face and pulled him down into an open mouth kiss. At that point, it lacked all the finesse of any of their earlier kisses, but feeling so fully connected to Kenma in every way made Kuroo’s thrusts speed up.

Kenma moaned low in his throat at the change in pace, breaking apart just enough for Kuroo’s to catch the look on his face.

Oh, and what a look it was.

Kenma’s red-bitten lips, and his flushed face, and his sweat-slicked cheeks, and his hooded eyes just barely catching with tears were nearly the finishing blow for Kuroo. He dropped a hand, wrapping it firmly around Kenma’s dick and beginning to jerk him quickly.

Kenma’s mouth parted even wider, and he was looking directly at Kuroo when he stuttered out, “Te-Tet-Tetsurou!”

Kuroo’s entire body surged, his fist twisting around Kenma roughly and his hips swinging into Kenma once more before Kenma was coming between them with a soundless cry. 

Kuroo kept pumping Kenma through it, his hips never stopping as Kenma’s body seized under his own. Kenma’s nails dug hard into where they’d dropped to Kuroo’s forearms, and Kuroo grunted at the sharp pain.

He was close, so close, Kenma so hot and wet and just squeezing around him so perfectly. Really, it was a wonder he survived at all when Kenma, fucked out as all hell, dragged his nails back up to Kuroo’s shoulders, scratched them down and over Kuroo’s chest, caught on one of his nipples, and, still shaking as he continued to take Kuroo, just lowly said, “ _ My _ Tetsurou.”

Kuroo groaned loudly and his hips stuttered, thrusting twice more before he came so hard inside Kenma that his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He rested his forehead against Kenma’s shoulder, trailing his hands up and down his sides as he let his orgasm roll over him. 

“Kuro,” Kenma said, and Kuroo caught the slight pinch of discomfort in his tone.

Careful to move slowly, Kuroo slid out of Kenma. They both winced a bit at the movement, but Kuroo was already moving to pepper Kenma’s face with kisses. 

“I love you so much,” Kuroo said, punctuating each word with a kiss. Kenma huffed, but wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders nonetheless.

Kuroo hummed at the feeling of Kenma’s arms around him, giving him a few more kisses, before pulling away fully from Kema.

He did not miss Kenma’s immediate pout. 

“We need to clean up,” Kuroo said before Kenma could even open his mouth. “I know this. You know this. Our poor bedsheets know this.”

“You could wait just a little while,” Kenma said, pulling enticingly on Kuroo’s arm.

“Except it won’t be a little while,” Kuroo said with pursed lips. “I’ll fall asleep, and you’ll fall asleep, and we’ll both wake up feeling grumpy and gross.”

“I always wake up feeling grumpy anway,” Kenma said with a shrug, and Kuroo grinned.

“You may not know it,” Kuroo said leaning down close to Kenma, “But you wake up with a smile every time you sleep in my arms.”

Kuroo placed a quick kiss on the end of Kenma’s quickly reddening nose. “And when we’re both cleaned off.”

“Then just a rag?” Kenma said with a resigned sigh. “I don’t quite have the energy in me for a bath.”

“It’s a compromise.” Kuroo grinned down at Kenma, and then walked into their bathroom to collect a rag and dunk it into the water basin. Ringing it out, he made his way back to the bedroom where Kenma was stretched out and on the verge of sleep. 

“I told you we would’ve fallen asleep,” Kuroo teased gently, and Kenma just furrowed his brow in response. 

Kuroo chuckled, and cleaned Kenma off as much as he could before cleaning himself off and tossing the rag to the floor. He climbed back into the bed, and Kenma immediately pulled him close. 

“I love you, too,” Kenma said sleepily, pulling Kuroo’s head to rest against his head. “I couldn’t say it back before because you were too worried about cleanliness.”

“Mm, always a critique,” Kuroo said with a sigh, wrapping his arms around Kenma. Kenma patted his shoulder consolingly, and Kuroo laughed. “Maybe one day I’ll meet your impossible standards”

“Marry me,” Kenma mumbled, and Kuroo’s head shot up to look at him but Kenma’s eyes were already shut. “That’s up to my standards.”

Kuroo watched disbelievingly as Kenma drifted off then, and huffed out a laugh in shock. All he had to do to get the upper hand was marry Kenma? 

He’d propose tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WRITING THE END WAS LIKE: WHAT WINS - MY INTENSE DESIRE FOR IMMEDIATE KUROKEN COUPLES OR MY INTENSE NEED TO FIX HOW GROSS THEY ARE BY HAVING KUROO CLEAN THEM OFF
> 
> anyway heres my nsfw [twitter](https://twitter.com/neenstries) account that i do not use a reguarly as my main but that i definitely use - if u dont have ur age in ur bio or are a minor u will be blocked <3

**Author's Note:**

> this entire ridiculously long part one could be summed up in:
> 
> kuroo: you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up  
> kenma: you want to fuck me so bad it makes u look stupid
> 
> ANYWAY part two will be out in TEN DAYS, come yell on me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/neenswrites) abt kuroken until then


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